Red Skye Rising
by squeekness
Summary: Sabretooth finds out that the plans Skye has for him are a little more than he bargained for. Part 16 of the Game.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Sabretooth finds out that the plans Skye has for him are a little more than he bargained for. Part 16 of the Game.

Rated M for profanity, violence and some sexual content.

Disclaimer : I do not own the X-men or any of their associated villains, but the Siskans, the Dognan, Jael and the Outkasts are mine. Please do not use them without my permission. Thanks. :)

Notes :Art has been posted for Serenity on my website if anyone cares to look at it. I've updated my profile here with some brief information on some fanfics that are to follow the Game if anyone is interested.

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(One)

_I am the Dreamer and it is my job to dream, to sort this whole evil mess out. It is a lonely job but I know that I have to get this done on my own. I don't know what fills me with more dread -- having finally met Kimble's Angel or having Asher here this close. I love them both more than my own life and I would change none of this, but seeing them now reminds me there is so little time left. For all the dreams I have had, my mission is still unclear. _

_I sift and sift, trying to organize what I see into something meaningful. All I know for certain is that I need to be in a particular guard shack and that I will surely see some great battle. Somehow in all of that huge bloody mess, I have to be in the right place at the right time to rescue a tiny child. _

_What is she even doing there? I can't help but wonder. War is no place for a child. I can't help but think on that broken body of pure white. Is it Kimble? I know that he will be there somewhere in the fight, he'd never leave his Angel child to fend for herself. From what I've heard, Zander killed for her. I do not doubt he would do so again. You'd think I'd know Kimble anywhere, but yet, what I see is blurred. It could be him. It looks like him and feels like him, and yet something tells me, it is someone else. Someone I have not yet met. Curse these dreams and their unhappy vagueness! It's not fair!_

_So I focus elsewhere. Will I be alone out there? Is there no help?_

_The answer comes in the form of that pesky phone ringing again._

"_You goan' get dat?"_

_It's Remy speaking, there's no mistaking that whiskey and cinnamon voice. I have heard it right up close in a moment of fiery intimacy, I will never forget it. _

Concentrate, Dreamer, _I tell myself. _See Gambit.

_I will the image stream to obey me and then I see far more than I would like —_

_I see a bathroom of white tile, Gambit's body lying broken in a corner of a bathroom stall. His hands are gripped to his chest, he's fighting for control as he gasps for breath._

_The scene changes and he is out on the tarmac, I see him holding a man that is literally melting in his arms, both of them howling in agony. _

_I see a window above me, a shock of auburn hair pressed against it from the outside, soft knuckles rapping against the glass as he sends me a vibration of hope and comfort: _

**/ I see you. I love you, fils. You ain't all alone. Be safe.** /

_Again I see a thick golden liquid pour out over hot asphalt, smoking from the heat. It sings to me, terrifying me to the core._

_The scene changes again and I see standing Gambit above me, looking down on me with a mixture of fear and dismay. I must be on the ground but I cannot reason why from these incomplete images. All is smoke and death, he is covered in blood and ash. He shouts at me to wake but I am somewhere far away. The light is coming and this time I won't fight it. Somehow I know that is what will happen if I succeed, not if I fail. If keeping Angel safe should take my life then so be it. So be it. _

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Kristalay opened his eyes, his breath coming out in a raspy wheeze. He was alive, barely, and not in the happiest position of his life. He was currently chained to a large metal ring fixed fast to a chilly cement floor, his body one huge stinging agony. He had been whipped badly, lashed almost to the point of death.

The perpetrator of this crime sat in an easy chair only a just few feet away, grumbling as he watched a strange device that only vaguely resembled a television screen. Skye was not going to be the gentlest of owners Kristalay had learned. Skye was a freak.

Having not much else to do as he lay in a tortured heap on the floor, Kristalay reviewed the past three days in a haze.

He vaguely remembered being taken from the holding cell at the Complex and passing Jerry's limp body on the way out the door. They had been cloaked by the strange bracelets Skye had brought with him and in spite of passing a few people in the hallways, no one saw them leave. Kristalay was familiar with these bracelets, he'd had Kimble make some for him years ago and knew they were cloaking devices, rendering them invisible. Kristalay was beginning to understand some of what was happening -- Kimble spoke as Skye did, Kimble made things as Skye did, neither of them had an organic scent. This told him that both of them were Siskan, but where Skye had come from and why Skye wanted him in particular, Kristalay had no clue.

Skye had remained in her female skin, leading him quickly out of Logan's Security offices and through the large facility. It was late at night and not many people were about, none that could sense their presence anyway. Up and up they went out of the Xavier Complex, out through the large door to the landing strip where the Blackbirds were parked. Kristalay saw the makings of the next Dragon shuttle as they passed by without understanding what he was looking at. Kristalay had expected that he and Skye would next use some sort of vehicle to finish their escape -- he was wrong. Instead Skye launched himself up into the air and flew them away, just as Kimble might have done.

Kristalay didn't know how far they went, but it was a very short flight. The Xavier Complex was located in a large Industrial Park out in the Arizona desert. Charles had bought up most of the surrounding buildings, but that didn't mean they were all occupied. Skye had set up residence in one of the smaller buildings on the outside of things, one that Xavier's people were not using. Being only a single person, he had been operating well under the radar of the nearby larger Xavier complex. The building he had selected was long and flat, one single level above ground, but had two lower levels. He had cleaned out part of one of the basements for his own use. Apparently Skye had used his knowledge of Dognan and Siskan technologies to fashion this place to suit his own purposes and was quite comfortable here.

They landed and Skye took him inside. Kristalay moved himself along, trying to get his bearings. The first lower level of this building was huge and had been converted into a sub-level Master suite of some kind, made much too well to be done by Skye's hand alone though it was obvious he had converted some items of furniture himself from things he had either stolen or scrounged. Skye had taken over a large and magnificent apartment that had been here from the previous business owner and made his own modifications. The place was well lit but they were underground low enough that their presence would not be revealed to anyone outside. There were signs that this area might be cloaked as well in some way, Skye had activated a couple of odd looking blinking panels on their way in. Kristalay had spent enough time as a bag and grab man to recognize security devices when he saw them, even if they were homemade.

The place was nicely furnished -- there was a bedroom and livingroom area set up as well as a large, spacious kitchen. There were some notable pieces of furniture that gave Kristalay pause -- there was a large display cabinet with two large bullwhips placed inside for family viewing, leather straps and oddly knife like items alongside them. One area of the kitchen floor had been cleared down to cement with two large eye bolt rings fastened into the floor, chains and leashes hung down above them from the ceiling. The living area was one huge open room like a loft and he saw a large four poster bed with shackles. Kristalay trembled with fear and excitement at the thought of them. _Shiver me_, Skye had said. He was beginning to get an idea of what that might truly mean.

Every instinct told Kristalay to run, that this was a trap, but he remained under Skye's empathic control and stood as he was, simply looking around the place. His head turned when he heard the click of sharp nails on the floor, someone else was here.

"Grrr! Mmmaster!" came a growl so feral, it almost couldn't be discerned as speech.

Kristalay stepped back at first in surprise, but then burst into derisive laughter, recognizing the greeter immediately.

The new arrival was a scrawny blonde young man, looking about twenty years of age or so. He would never be confused as human — not anymore. He came on his hands and feet, his arms elongated and his legs as crooked as Kimble's, allowing for a fast four legged trot. His hair was long and streaming, a ripped up hair tie tangled in it.

Kristalay may have recognized this creature, but he wouldn't be the only one. Jael would have known him quite well in spite of some recent changes in the boy's physique. This was Grog. Through strange happenstance, Grog hadn't been dispatched as easily as his former Master Jael had intended. Dumped and left for dead, he'd been discovered by a Siskan passing through, or was it perhaps simply destiny? Either way, here he was. Funny thing, Kristalay knew him not from any time spent in Jael's company. No, these two had met long before that. Grog wasn't this boy's first name, nor would it be his last. He had once been Wildchild.

Wildchild had been born Kyle Gibney and through fate and misfortune, found himself ensnared in the Weapon X program. Mind you, he had never been born a mutant, he was a homeless boy who had been kidnapped and experimented on. Weapon X had DNA samples from both Logan and Sabretooth and they were all too happy to use them in experiments on poor homeless people who wouldn't be missed. Poor Kyle was forcibly mutated and it hadn't been a pleasant experience. The result was a feral teenager with claws and a healing factor, a tiny Sabretooth wannabe. Problem was, his mind had been ravaged and he was hopelessly violent. Several attempts to integrate him into the mutant government squads as a tracker and spy weren't all that successful. He kept getting loose and committing violent crimes, raping women and killing innocent people. He really was wild and had no real clue about laws or consequences. Sabretooth had run into Kyle while working for the program, so had Logan. Neither one had liked Wildchild all that much, though Sabretooth at least could sympathize with the tiny beast within.

Kyle was much smaller than Sabretooth had been, only weighing in at hundred and fifty pounds or so, and Sabretooth had enjoyed the many fights they had, the kid just kept coming back no matter how many times you smacked him into a wall. Once demoted out of the Program, Kristalay never saw the kid again and was all too surprised to see him here. It didn't stop the derisive laughter that came from him as he eyed the kid before him.

Wildchild was different than when Kristalay had seen him last. He'd had a normal human body then except for the claws. He could track with the best of them, his senses almost keener than Kristalay's own. Now he looked more like a strange human dog or a large cat with his crooked legs and desire to go about on all fours. Kyle had once been able to speak clearly when he wanted to, though he mostly kept to himself. He'd been a terrible slob, disliking the shower as a human thing and often had to be forcibly dragged away to be cleaned. It wasn't beyond him to roll in his own excrement or the blood of his kills. The young man before him now was spotlessly clean even though he wasn't dressed or combed. Something had been done to change him.

The two feral mutants regarded each other with unconcealed mutual disgust. Kyle hissed in angry recognition and charged, recklessly not dodging Kristalay's swift and savage blow. He went flying and crashed into a wall. The force of the blow sent slivers of pain up and down Kristalay's arm but he couldn't stop from laughing even harder. Just like old times.

"Quit that shit! Both of yous! Be still!" Skye shouted in consternation as the smaller man rose from the floor at the ready for round two. Both combatants froze at once, held in place by Skye's power. Skye shifted back into his male skin -- he had remained in the skin of a woman up until they had arrived, wanting to keep Kristalay at ease. Now seeing the younger man rise again for another brawl was a challenge to his authority he would not abide.

Skye reached for a canvas harness that was lying on a nearby table. The harness was quite sturdy, made to restrain large dogs. "Famayalin, come on over here," he ordered.

Kyle responded immediately to his new name and rose from his crumpled heap on the floor. He came to his Master, unable to stop the low growl from leaking out of his tightly clenched teeth. He'd been bruised and scraped from his collision with the wall, but the injuries were healing rapidly, far more quickly than they had at any time he'd been with Kristalay before –another change. He crouched down, submissive, and gave no argument as he was moved to the bare cement area of the room where he was fitted with the harness around his bony torso. He already wore a collar very much like the one Kristalay had on, it had a tag as well --- Forever mine. He was next clipped to a long leash tied to the ceiling.

"Easy now, pet. Easy. I told ya yous wouldn't be alone. We needs more'n just us," Skye soothed, petting him and flooding him with Kundatesh. Famayalin's eyes fluttered closed and the growl ceased, turning into a soft low croon of happiness. "I ain't fergotten yous. Not me. Not ever."

"Mmrrr...Mmmaster...!" the boy murmured, shivering now. He wasn't clothed and his arousal was obvious.

"Got that one tamed, I see," Kristalay snorted in arrogant condescension. Skye's power had diminished some as his attention was turned from the bigger problem at hand and Kristalay could now speak. He seemed to have forgotten the leather collar that was now wrapped around his own neck.

Skye hadn't. He rose now and worked his newest prize, making him numb with Kundatesh as well and fitting him into his own harness and leash. This was his lair and he was ruler here, the one unquestionably in charge. The two feral mutants were now separated and couldn't reach each other. Once secured, Skye released his mental restraints and sat back to watch the show.

Famayalin was used to this and sat calmly in place, a twisted, satisfied smile on his lips. He'd been here a long while and was well trained. He knew Kristalay was new here and couldn't wait to watch the newcomer explode.

Kristalay went off, upset at being locked up like an animal. He snarled and charged at Skye, figuring no mere leash could hold him. That might have been true with Earthly equipment, but these were Dognan restraints and more than capable of the task presented to them. The harness and leash may have looked like canvas, but they had been enhanced with tiny filaments of energy, not unlike a containment field. They could not be torn or broken, certainly not by Kristalay in his current enfeebled condition. His claws and teeth were gone, all he had left was brute strength and it wasn't going to be enough. He tugged and twisted, snarling with an ever increasing berserker rage. He was unable to free himself and couldn't contain his outrage.

Skye let him go, watching with wry amusement. Unafraid, he came closer after a few minutes and called out softly, "Kristalay?"

Kristalay couldn't respond. He was too far gone, too much into his fury.

Skye reached out and boldly grabbed his wrist. He gave the monster in his grip a large pulse of Kundatesh, the largest one he'd been given by far.

Kristalay jerked like a beast that had been shot and felled by a tranquilizer dart. His legs gave way and he dropped to his knees, caught only by the strength of the one who held him. His body convulsed as his mental gears shifted violently, painfully, from rage to fierce arousal. He was instantly sprung and groaned in agony, unsure if he wanted to kill or cum. "What the fuck!" he roared, spit flying from his mouth.

"Shh, now, m' Golden Hair. M' Kristalay. Don't be fightin' this."

Kristalay was panting wildly now. "Let me go!"

"No. You've already given yerself to me. We gots promises ta keep, you an' me. You'll git Jael's throat just like I said and yer gonna gives me what I wants."

"Wh-what do you want from me?"

"Hmm..." Skye hummed wistfully. He reached down between Kristalay's legs and stroked the hardness there.

Kristalay jerked away in fear and loathing, his eyes wild. "Don't ya even think about it, ya sicko faggot!"

Skye only laughed. He let Kristalay have some more Kundatesh, enough to make his head loll back as his body shivered with need. Kristalay went slack on his heels and he groaned again as Skye went back to massaging him. He was still dressed in the loose prison sweat pants and he felt every touch. Combined with the Kundatesh, he was overcome. "Nno... Stop that, ya fuck!" he gasped, his body acting as traitor as it responded eagerly to the man pleasuring it.

"I don't thinks ya really wants that, do ya?" Skye replied, giving Kristalay his full attention now. He paused only to slip his hand down inside Kristalay's pants, all the better to feel him.

Kristalay was heaving for breath, fully contained by Skye's mental restraints and not by the real ones he could feel around his body. Tears were now streaming down his cheeks as he tried in vain to resist what was being done to him. Skye was bringing him to a climax, eager to feed off his vibrations of pleasure, of cumming.

Skye was a unique Siskan as were all the elite of the Lushna-esk, the Kintay. Like Kimble he needed to feel the vibrations of pleasure from his clients. Unlike the others, Skye could feed from this. It wasn't his only source of energy, but one he desired most of all. He was as addicted to them as his clients became ever more addicted to his powerful Kundatesh. He used his power to trap them like flies, then used it again to make them cum at his whim and feed that vacant hole inside of him, the one created by his terrible changing. The one all the powerful Siskans had to endure to make them this strong, this special. He'd been melted, tortured, abused, just as Kimble and Aiden had been. He wouldn't be what he was without it.

Kristalay couldn't stop this from happening. He came with another gut wrenching jerk, feeling the heat of his climax spilling out into his pants, a sign of his weakness, of his inability to fight. He cried out in pleasure and pain, arching his back and finally collapsing over onto his side. He felt dizzy and weak, like he'd been drugged. This was not a Kimble rush though the flavor of it was similar. He was in the power of this Siskan, something Kimble might have been capable of doing, but Kimble had respected him too much to ever want to do.

Skye looked at him sleepily, his eyes droopy now from the vibrations he'd absorbed from him. Kristalay's shine was so bright, brighter than Famayalin's and far more satisfying. He petted Kristalay's head gently. "That wuz real nice. I cain't wait ta tastes ya. Ta shiver ya. Ta fucks ya like no one's ever done."

Kristalay's eyes widened in fear and rage. That hadn't been a part of the deal! At least not as he had understood it. Rose had been promised to him, not this man. He would not be raped! He made an awkward move to strike defensively but was stopped as his brain was flooded with Skye's warm fuzzy glow.

Skye just laughed at him softly. "Yer still so wild. Lordy, I loves ya so."

He began to strip Kristalay down, leaving him naked on the cold stone floor.

"Mrr! Grr! Mmaster!" Famayalin snarled from his restraints. He was filled with an angry jealousy watching his Master play with someone else. He'd been here long enough to be firmly in Skye's thrall and wanted no one else.

Skye turned to him. "I ain't fergots m' Famayalin. M' Little Lion."

"Mmrrr!"

Skye rose and left Kristalay alone. He'd had quite the first day and needed some time now to recover. There was plenty of time for him to be broken, to be tamed and trained for the purpose he had stolen him for. Skye reached next out and unhooked Famayalin from his leash and harness, setting him free. Famayalin crouched at his feet, happy now and wanting only to please.

Skye stroked him gently. "Yer so pretty. Ya washed up fer me. How nice."

Famayalin tipped his head back to be kissed, purring once more as his wish was granted.

Kristalay watched this in horror, unable to accept what he was seeing. Wildchild had been a feral freak, but unlike himself, all of his rapes had been women. There was no doubt of that one's sexual orientation — until now. He watched as Famayalin was led to the bed with the shackles and the boy lay down on his belly for his Master, letting this strange Siskan creature take him willingly as a man.

_What comes around goes around,_ Kristalay thought ironically to himself. _Fuck!_ How was he going to get out of this! No way was he going to be the one on that bed, not on the bottom. He was no submissive to be used, he'd gone over a hundred years without being the bitch, the one taken by force. No way was that track record going to come to an end. He would not be Dog again, the one possessed and at the mercy of another.

Still, there was no mistaking the whimpers of pleasure coming from Famayalin, he was mewling and gripping the blankets, his face and body now covered in a light sheen of clean sweat. _So that's what Kimble and I looked like_, Kristalay's mind continued to wander. It wouldn't be so sick if the promise hadn't been made that he would be next.

Famayalin barked loudly — there was no other way to describe it — and bucked wildly as he climaxed, making the man on top of him respond with a shudder of his own. He gave a couple of tremors then grew still, laying slack now. Creed squinted in confusion, had Famayalin passed out? What the fuck was that? It certainly wasn't inspiring to the captive still in his harness.

Skye was out cold himself for a minute then came groggily awake, quivering from head to toe. He leaned up on one elbow and pulled back the long blonde hair from Famayalin's face. "M' Famayalin. Ya still fall black, eh? So precious ya are ta me."

He bent down and gently kissed Famayalin's cheek until the smaller man woke and whimpered softly, a sound of happiness, not one of distress. Famayalin smiled without opening his eyes. "Mrrr!"

"Are ya hungry?"

"Mmrrrr!" Famayalin growled with more enthusiasm and opened his eyes. He rose up partway, grumbling at the stickiness below him.

"Leaves it. Go wash up again. There's a good boy."

Kyle Gibney, once Wildchild and then Grog, now Famayalin, slipped quietly from the bed without shame and trotted off on hands and feet to a room Kristalay couldn't see.

Kristalay grunted and rolled over to watch Skye as he cleaned the bed and then next moved to the kitchen area. He clicked on some lights, blinding Kristalay a little. Kristalay scowled at the brightness but wanted to see what Skye was up to, he would never be able to relax not knowing where this guy was. Skye reached into a refrigerator and took out a large hunk of fresh raw red meat that had been wrapped in plastic. He began to carve it up into small bite sized pieces.

Kristalay's stomach growled loudly at the smell of the meat. It had been a while since he had eaten and the scent of the flesh and blood made him salivate immediately. The fact that it was raw and oh, Lord... (human!)...made it all the more enticing. Kristalay loved to hunt, to taste the bloody red flesh of his kills, still was and probably would always remain a cannibal in his heart. Skye glanced back at him with a wry smile. "When ya shiver me, you kin haves all the meat ya wants."

Kristalay snarled and jerked back, retreating.

There was a familiar click of nails on the floor, Famayalin had returned. He was clean and shiny now, his long locks dripping fresh water and smelling of soap. He crouched at his Master's feet, whimpering and grumbling eagerly as he watched Skye dump the morsels of raw meat into a shiny metal bowl. Cannibalism was a trait he'd long shared with Kristalay, it had gotten him into trouble more than once in the Weapon X program and had carried over into the time he'd spent with Jael. Obviously the recent changes in Famayalin's physique hadn't affected that darker appetite.

The bowl was placed on the floor and Famayalin went to it with gusto, eating like a dog without using his hands. He raised his eyes once with an all too real growl of possession to Kristalay who was still eyeballing his food. He showed long fangs, bloody now. He hadn't had those before, but he had them now. Another sign that he'd been mutated even further.

"Easy, Famayalin. There's plenty fer us all."

Skye cut some more meat and tossed the scraps into a waiting frying pan before returning the remains of the roast to the fridge. This couldn't be considered true cannibalism here, Skye was not human, not even organic. He'd simply acquired the taste. He turned on the stove and Kristalay was once more assaulted with the smell of food. _Damn!_ he cursed when he saw Skye dump some pepper and A-1 sauce in, cooking it the same way he liked. He prayed it was being prepared for him, but Skye's words had pretty much killed that idea.

Famayalin finished his meal and belched contentedly. He was given a wet towel to clean himself and he used it before going to a large water bottle tied to the wall and lapping at it like a bizarre human hamster. Kristalay shuddered in revulsion, he couldn't help it.

Skye prepared his meal and took it to a small table in the corner, eating quietly without looking back at Kristalay once. Famayalin curled up at his feet and dozed, full and content now. Skye ate and read from a large leather bound book before placing his dishes in the sink and retiring to the large bed. Famayalin barked at him softly, asking permission to come up with him. It was granted and he curled up happily in his Master's arms, crooning gently once more as he was petted away into a quiet slumber.

The lights were now out and Kristalay was pretty much alone. What was he going to do, how could he possibly get out of this? What had he been thinking? He was tricked. Yes, that's what it was. Well, he wasn't an idiot like Wilchild had been. No, he was much too clever. Skye would slip up and he'd get his comeuppance, it was just a matter of time. Hopefully it happened before that sick fuck had a mind to deflower his virgin ass. Impossible that such a thing would happen to him, to the infamous Sabretooth. No, that wasn't going to happen, not without the shedding of blood.


	2. Chapter 2

(Two)

Kristalay lasted almost two days before he began to show signs of breaking. He didn't have his healing factor and the pain of his confinement was doing him in. He had put up so much of a fuss trying to continually escape that Skye had fitted him with handcuffs and a chain, hooking him to one of the metal rings on the floor. Now he could only get as high as his knees and his legs were killing him. He was denied food and only given a minimum of water, he was starved and parched almost beyond madness.

He still had trouble accepting the place he now found himself in. In those moments that he and Famayalin were left alone, he tried to speak with the kid, but there was too much resentment between them --- from all the undeserved poundings Kyle had received at his hands, no doubt. Sabretooth was a man without mercy and had spent way too much time tormenting Wildchild for Famayalin to even desire to help him now. No, instead, the boy was teasing him with the same lack of mercy.

Famayalin would come close and trot about, pacing restlessly in a display of just how much freedom he had and Kristalay did not. He would coerce water from the water bottle into a bowl and leave it just out of Kristalay's reach, tormenting him with thirst.

He didn't get away with everything. On the third day, he had come up behind Kristalay and smacked his ass with a grunt of cruel intention, taking advantage of the fact the bigger man couldn't turn around. Kristalay had had years of military training, something Kyle had been too feral to completely absorb. Kristalay kicked out at him with his legs and ensnared him about the neck with his ankles, twisting around on his back to topple Famayalin and snapped his neck with his knees. If Famayalin hadn't had an enhanced healing factor, he would have been dead for sure.

Famayalin howled, a terrible twisted wheeze. The sound of his neck snapping had been loud in the empty apartment. He lay limply between Kristalay's legs now, his head bent and crooked at an impossible angle. Kristalay, disgusted at the sight of it, kicked his body away only to watch in grim fascination as Famayalin refused to die or even lose consciousness. He mewled pitifully and then as his strength returned only a few seconds later, managed to flop around and twist his neck to reset the bones with another sickening crack. He staggered to his feet, his eyes foggy and dim. "Fucker!" he slurred, becoming Wildchild again for a brief moment.

"Some things change, kid. I ain't one of 'em!" Kristalay snarled. "You even think about fuckin' with me I'll kill you!"

Famayalin just snickered bitterly, the growl coming back. "Already dead."

"Why are you here, kid? What the fuck is this?"

Famayalin wasn't interested in conversation. He had healed, but the memory of the pain was still with him and he wanted comfort. He crawled up onto the empty bed and lay on it, burying his head in the pillows, the place where his Master slept. Moments later, when Skye returned, he didn't come running as always and the Master noticed. He moved to the bed where Famayalin lay, his cheeks damp from tears. The Master touched him, 'felt' him, and Famayalin whimpered.

"You guys been fightin'. Ya gots ta stop this. We gots ta work together if we're gonna takes Jael down. We're a team now and ya gots ta accepts that," Skye chided, petting the long blonde hair of his pet. "Come."

Famayalin rose from the bed, his head down. He allowed himself to be handcuffed and chained to a ring on the floor as Kristalay was. Kristalay smiled, happy now to see Famayalin punished, it eased the suffering of his own joints and he couldn't help but chuckle softly.

Famayalin whimpered now, keeping his head low and laying on his belly unresistant. He made no movement as Skye reached out and picked up a medium sized bullwhip.

Kristalay couldn't help himself but jerk back. He watched in dull horror as Skye gave the man on the floor three large lashes, cutting the skin. Quick as a wink, the cuts healed as if they had never been, but Famayalin's face was all torment and pain. He mewled pitifully now and sobbed, curling up into a ball. Skye knelt down next to him. "Understandin' me now? You cain'ts be fightin'. I knows yer jealous, but ya gots no need to be."

Famayalin whimpered softly once again, but didn't argue as he was petted gently before his Master rose and regarded Kristalay. He still had the whip in his hands. "Now what's yer excuse?"

"Kid got too close. Pity fer him," Kristalay snarled, showing his teeth.

"Hmm, I see. Well, we gots some rules 'round here. I thoughts maybe you wuz smart enough nots ta needs no learnin', guess I wuz wrong. This is yer first lesson here. No fightin' 'tween yous two. Yer gonna be friends."

"Never!"

"Oh, yes. If it's Jael yer wantin', yer gonna needs Famayalin ta git him."

"Fuck you!"

Skye lashed out with the whip with sudden viciousness, cutting Kristalay across the face.

Kristalay howled in agony as blood poured down his nose and chin. His healing factor was gone, the cut didn't seal itself as Famayalin's had. The pain was unbelievable.

"What wuz that? I didn' quite catch it!" Skye snarled, furious with his uncooperative slave.

"Fuck you!" Kristalay repeated, spitting blood. He was not about to submit to this creature. He'd been given a raw deal and wanted only blood. Too bad all he would get was his own. Skye lashed him again, twice. The first came across his back, the second in rapid succession across his side and belly as he twisted to get away. The tip of the whip was barbed and came dangerously close to his balls. Kristalay roared once again, "Fuck you, you asshole!"

Skye lashed him again and again. "Say when, Kristalay. Just say when, and then I'll stop, eh? Call me yer Master!"

"Never!"

Skye kept lashing, not giving in. Kristalay was cut all over and bleeding profusely now, the floor was slick with his blood. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this level of pain, perhaps not since his early turbulent childhood. As if in answer, he screamed as he saw the face of Thomas Logan looming over him. He was going into shock now, he knew that, but he would not give in, he would die first. He took almost twenty lashes before he passed out and Skye was forced to stop. The Siskan crouched down next to him and shook his head. He eased open one of Kristalay's eyes and shifted into his woman skin.

Kristalay woke and saw only Rose. He gasped her name in a wheeze, not understanding.

"That's it now, yes. Give yerself ta Rose."

"Yes..." Kristalay wheezed and his eyes fluttered shut. He felt Rose's hand on his head and began to weep. Surely he must be dead to be seeing her here. He was in shock and felt no pain.

Skye smiled sadly. "When ya feels this whip, it's yer father ya feels. It wuz like that with Famayalin, too."

"Papa's dead. Logan killed him," Kristalay whispered. "Now I'm dead, too. Lay me down, Rose. I'm so tired..."

Skye chuckled softly and reached for the bowl of water Famayalin had brought so close. She raised it and dripped water into Kristalay's mouth. He grunted and thrashed, drinking it down greedily as it splashed all over his face. It revived him and he looked up into the bright green eyes of the woman kneeling over him. "Rose?"

"Yes, yer Rose I will be."

Kristalay heard her words and tears streamed once more from his eyes. This wasn't Rose. Her voice had been soft, musical, not broken up like this. Skye was still here, still trying to trick him. "Yer not Rose! Go away!"

Skye shifted back. "I knows it, pet, but yer Master I'm gonna be just the same."

"Never!" Kristalay gasped, but was too numb to move away or fight. He protested with his spirit.

"Yer gonna gives in. The fates demand it. I seen it in m' dreams. It don't matter. You kin fights me, you kin fights Famayalin. It don't change nuthin'. Yer mine. Give ups alla yer fightin'. It's only gonna cause ya more pain."

"No!"

"Yes," Skye insisted gently and let him have some Kundatesh.

Kristalay jerked and shivered, moaning as he was filled with bliss. "Uhnn..."

"You wants Jael?"

"Yes..."

"You gots ta be able ta heal again fer that."

"Yes..."

"I kin gives ya back yer healin'."

"Yes..."

"Shiver me."

"Rose?"

"No. Skye. Rose is just a dream, Skye is real. Call Skye yer Master."

Kristalay whimpered. "NO!"

"Suffer then fer a while. Takes some time ta think, I'll be askin' ya again."

Skye gently lay Kristalay's head down and withdrew, taking his power with him.

Kristalay sobbed loudly once, he couldn't help it. His body was flayed, dripping blood and raw to the air. He saw a vision of Kimble then, of a pilot's body on a hotel bed, whipped and shivering with pain just like this. A long time ago, Kristalay had beaten Kimble for something, something lost in the fog of his shattered memory. The reason was gone, but the vision remained, Kimble laying there, raw and bleeding. At the time Kristalay had enjoyed the sight. Now the thought of it made him sick. If gentle Kimble had felt like this, then he was truly damned. This Kristalay had deserved.

Famayalin was watching him, a defeated empty look in his eyes. He had been through Skye's little obedience training program himself and knew Kristalay's pain all too well. He had been rejected as too vicious by Weapon X years ago and left to rot in a SHIELD prison cell before Jael had found him and claimed him. Poor Wildchild was too feral and mean even for Jael and so he had become one of his savage pets. Grog he had been named and it had been he who had killed and feasted on poor Joseph, the last Clansman. Over time, Jael found another use for Grog, he became one of the guinea pigs used for Jael's power robbing gun. Jael had wanted to test it before using it on Sabretooth.

Stripped of his humanity and then his powers, Wildchild was once more dumped on the streets, a piece of human garbage. Somehow Skye had managed to find him and claim him. It was as if destiny had called them together. Now he had food, a home, but most of all he had regular feedings of Kundatesh. It had healed his ravaged body, going beyond that to change him even further. His healing factor was back in overdrive, cranking his metabolism and altering his body. He grew his claws back and now had fangs. His legs had become bent, but it had been gradual and wasn't painful, not like his first forced mutation had been.

Famayalin accepted his new life and his new name. Little Lion it meant in Siskan and he rather liked the sound of it. He had his Master's love and had grown to enjoy all of his attention, even the lovemaking. He took it as payment for the gifts he'd been given but had actually grown to love all aspects of it, drowning in a Kundatesh rush made anything enjoyable above and beyond everything else. He would now perform any sexual task asked of him and Skye had trained him well, finding in him and eager and willing student. Skye drank up Famayalin's vibrations of joy when he would cum and cum again, the two of them feeding off of each other. Famayalin knew no greater bliss ---- until Kristalay showed up. Famayalin did not want to share, certainly not with his former tormentor. It seemed the two of them were both going to go through some unwilling changes.

---------------------------

So now here Kristalay was, lying on the floor in a pool of his own congealing blood, lying here ignored as Skye watched television. Famayalin was at his Master's feet, freed now from the floor after his good behavior. Skye had tried to approach Kristalay as well a couple of times earlier, but Kristalay still had enough spunk left in him to try and fight. Skye had retreated then, figuring his newest pet would tire soon enough.

Kristalay had. The fight in him was gone, he knew that now. Each breath was a razor thin blaze of agony down his bruised and swollen throat. For the first time, he was entertaining the thought that he might actually die. Oddly enough, his only regret would be not seeing Kimble's face again or hearing that gentle snuffly laughter. What a waste.

"What's yer game, huh? What's yer fuckin' game!" Skye snarled suddenly at the television, jerking in his seat as he was overcome with irritation.

Kristalay cracked open one swollen eye. The screen Skye was viewing was quite large and obviously jerry rigged somehow using patched up pieces of salvaged junk. It was large enough to reveal pictures of some kind of destructive event happening elsewhere in the world. Kristalay's vision was too blurred for him to make out the captions, but it sounded as if someone had done the nasty to the Kremlin. The Russian President was dead and thousands others wounded. Jael had claimed responsibility, he was taking over the world. The Ruskies of course, had vowed revenge.

_Well that was stupid,_ Kristalay couldn't help but think, momentarily distracted from his pain. Jael should have pitted the two super powers against one another, not given them an excuse to team up against a common enemy. Anyone with any proper military experience knew that.

"No one gits Jael but me!" Skye snarled, rising.

Famayalin was there at this Master's feet, whimpering softly as he tried to ease his Master's mood by pawing at him. Skye calmed, looking down on his pet and stroked his head "Don't yous worry none. My promise is good. Yer gonna haves him, pretty, if I gots ta kills him twice!"

Kristalay grumbled silent laughter and closed his eye. Yeah, right. Like Skye could ever back up such a claim. He was just a stupid Siskan pansy sorry ass, what could he possibly do?

He had no idea he might be around to find out.


	3. Chapter 3

(Three)

Meanwhile, in a room not far away and with a television blaring the same news station as Skye was watching, Logan stood by, his eyes burning from viewing endless hours of news coverage. Jael had been busy and wanted everyone to know about it.

The Kremlin had gone under attack a couple of days ago and Jael had wasted no time in claiming his handiwork. Logan wasn't so naive as to think Jael had gone himself. No, the action, although cataclysmic, had all the signatures of some of Jael's earlier ops where he sent a teleporter in – Razel, no doubt – and a small team capable of doing maximum damage with few personnel. Jael wanted the Russians chasing their tails like dogs.

Well, Wolverine wasn't about to fall for it.

Already some of the other team members had wanted to send out assistance squads but Logan hollered until he shouted them down. This is what Jael wanted -- for them to divide their resources --- and he wasn't going to stand for it. He had contacts in Russia, had some old friends he had a habit of checking up on now and again. They were fine and already working this themselves.

The Russian President was dead. He had survived the initial blast only to be mowed down by Russian mafia men, intent on stealing what was left of the country for themselves. Chaos had erupted, something Jael no doubt had anticipated. The world was hanging on the brink of terror, wondering who eventually was going to gain control of Russia's nuclear arsenal. If it was the mob, who knew where that ordinance might end up? Most likely some of it would end up in the black market. This was all spiraling out of control. What had Jael thought he would gain by screwing things up like this?

The gain wasn't being felt much here in America. The President was in a fury, demanding the Mutant Registration Act be railroaded through Congress and he was winning. He was constantly on the news, his thundering preacher's voice insisting he meant no harm to law abiding mutant citizens. In fact, why didn't those mutants help out by joining the U.S. military and SHIELD and offer their services to help protect our great nation instead of joining up with terrorist groups? Logan had to admire his cheek, it was actually working. There had been some news clips of mutants offering themselves to law enforcement agencies to help. Of course there were just as many clips of humans stating they didn't want their help. It was ugly.

Logan rubbed his eyes. He hadn't slept since the call first came in about the Kremlin and he was ready to drop. He had made his points, gotten Charles and the others to finally see his way. Jael was picking his moment to strike here and it could come at any time, especially now with all this distress elsewhere in the world. They had to gear up and now. The madman was breathing down their necks and they still had no clue just where he was.

"Sleep, Logan," Charles said, coming closer with an electronic whirr. Logan hadn't been alone in the room, the Professor was pondering his own strategies. "You can't do any more here. Go home and see your children."

"We're not ready for Jael when he comes."

"We will be. Go."

"Creed's out there somewhere."

"He'll turn up. At the worst possible time, no doubt," Charles gently teased. "Go home. That's an order."

----------------------------

Wolverine wasn't the only one trying to plan his next move, Aiden lounged in the open doorway of Kimble's holding cell, watching over his lover as he slept. The pilot was bunched up in the corner, covered in blankets and propped up with pillows. He had one of Angel's teddy bears nearby and a small pile of books. Angel had been brought to see Kimble as soon as he woken and they'd had a good visit. Kimble had been reluctant to leave his tiny prison and Aiden knew just how he felt. The Morrowhiem treatments were wonderful, but being restored after a breakdown left one shaky at best.

Asher had been a near constant and comforting presence. The centaur was comfortably in place at Kimble's apartment, his crates stacked neatly in Angel's old room. Whatever didn't fit was held in storage elsewhere. Both Aiden and Remy had worked together to rearrange Angel's room to make space for the new arrival. Asher couldn't sleep on a proper bed, but they were able to lay a futon mattress down for him and supply him with ample blankets and pillows to be comfortable. There weren't many of Angel's things to move out, really. Most of her toys and clothes had already been relocated to Remy's.

Kimble hadn't been told of the changes, but he had to know the centaur was never going to fit in his old bedroom. Kimble didn't ask and Asher didn't speak of it. Asher saw to it that Kimble was kept warm and comfortable in his cell and the pilot accepted things as they were.

Kimble also hadn't been told about the attack on the Kremlin even though Jael had already not only claimed responsibility, but was promising more such attacks to come. The Complex was in an uproar, but calming down some now. It had been decided that the best thing was to group the remaining Siskans together at Kimble's and keep them under close watch. Kimble had been given his release orders and now Aiden was here to wake him and see that he was moved. Aiden was in no rush, not with Kimble looking so small and cute in the corner like that.

Asher had been spreading more than just Morrowhiem around among his kin. He was whispering his advice constantly to Aiden, "Gives Kim peace. He needs them things what makes him thinks of security and safety. He needs ta know that he's loved no matter what. The humans here, they gots rings and ceremonies and stuff to shows when theys in love. There's wisdom in that."

Asher was a new arrival, but his timing was perfect, he got here just in time to see Seth and Fallen married in a small ceremony in the Solarium. It had taken place only just yesterday, the day after Kimble's awakening. Seth had wanted to be married and was relentless in his pursuit of it once the idea had jammed its way into his Siskan head. He had gone to all the clergy until he found one that would marry them with such small notice. With the constant threat of war after the attack on the Kremlin, many others here were contemplating such unions, the clergy here of all denominations were busy. Fallen and Seth were married in the park with three other couples, though the others could not have boasted of having been paired together for as long. Fallen and Seth were already bonded on many levels. This just made it official.

Aiden was there at the ceremony although Kimble was not, Kimble was simply too fragile even after the repair. Asher had pushed for Kimble's isolation and nobody was arguing. Aiden watched the marital proceedings with jaded eyes, he had long since thought that none of the selfish **Chuckfet** could properly pair bond permanently and guessed more than a few of these impromptu marriages would fail in the first few years. He felt he and Kimble did not need such a ceremony to prove anything and well, the prejudices here pretty much assured him there wasn't a priest in the place who would marry them, not without a skin change on Aiden's part, and the Dreamer wasn't about to indulge any bigoted **Chuckfet** on such a petty issue.

Still, Aiden had to admit there was a certain appeal in the pageantry of the ceremony and in how the families of the intended had gathered with love and praise. It stuck with him enough that when he'd gotten up this morning, he'd gone to the one jeweler's store in the Complex, casually looking over the wares. As expected, there was a shortage of wedding rings, but what caught the Dreamer's eye was a series of braided Celtic friendship rings made of shiny, precious platinum. They were simple, yet elegant and appealing to his Siskan sense of beauty.

Kimble didn't have much in the way of jewelry, but Aiden had seen a couple of rings in a glass jar in Kimble's bathroom a while back. He'd noted the size with his perfect memory and love of gift giving. Maybe he could present Kimble with a gift that was a little more than something simply ornamental. Without allowing for second thoughts, Aiden purchased two of the lovely rings, one for each of them. They were not the least bit cheap, were the most expensive things in the shop, actually. Not that Aiden had cared all that much. Remy had given him a sizable advance in useable credits against the large inheritance Trishnar had left him. Aiden was wealthy now, yes, but some of it had yet to be sold and then converted into cash.

Aiden stood in the doorway of the holding cell, looking down on his lover, his half smile hiding the depth of his emotions at this moment. Kimble was so precious to him, he couldn't bear the thought of losing him. If Jael won this stupid war, who knew what would happen to them? Aiden knew Kimble would fight Jael, he'd never leave his Angel unprotected, and neither would he. They would win together or both end up dead.

Aiden did not want to die. He wanted peace and quiet and to be left alone with his precious Kimble. That was it. All of it. He fingered the rings in his pocket, uncertain if he should give Kimble his ring now or wait. In spite of Asher's gentle nudging, some small part of Aiden's mind resisted the notion of such symbols.

_Wait until the fighting's done,_ Father predictably advised, wisping into view. Father was concerned with their mission, not with such petty declarations of love. _Worry about your bonding later when all is done. It will mean more after our victory._

Aiden stayed as he was, thinking. _Ashair szay Keemble need disz. Mebbe it beszt not to wait._

The air shifted at Aiden's side and small Talalanay was there, grasping his hand. _Make the promise now, but wait for a ceremony to finish it. That's how the others do it here._

_No one will marry usz, not a prieszt,_ Aiden answered, unable to hide his contempt. In spite of his bravado, he resented the fact that he and Kimble would be prejudiced against and not given the same rights as anyone else based solely upon their appearance. It hurt deeply, something that he covered with his attitude of anger and arrogance.

_Asher said you only need a promise and two witnesses to that promise. Asher will marry you,_ Talalanay insisted, his child's eyes eager. He wanted only peace for Aiden and would suggest anything that would help Aiden attain it.

Aiden nodded at that. It was true that Asher had whispered that more than once. While Aiden did not share Asher's God, he had understood what the centaur was suggesting. A private civil union made without priests or legal papers that only meant something to the organic. They could have something private with just a couple of witnesses. That was all that was needed. Aiden's eyes closed as he envisioned a moonlight ceremony under one of the big trees in the Solarium. He saw his two witnesses, Remy and his Mistress Molly, Angel by their side. Oh, yes. He shivered with a bright blast of love and deep affection at the idea.

"Whatcha'll thinkin'?"

Aiden startled a little at the sound of Kimble's voice. The pilot's tone was low and quiet, a bit dry and raspy from his nap, but he had never looked more beautiful than when Aiden's eyes first opened to see him. "T'inkin' of only you, preciousz."

Kimble shifted in his mound of pillows and blankets, smiling now through his half open eyes. He was rumpled and sleepy, not fully awake. "Then come sits with me."

Aiden happily obliged. He squished in next to his lover on the pile of pillows and allowed Kimble to cover him up with the blankets, warm and cozy. All thoughts of going back to Kimble's place vanished as Aiden embraced the pilot and kissed him slow and easy.

Kimble laughed a moment later, his eyes dreamy from the kiss and his chin on Aiden's shoulder. "How come ya don'ts sleeps as much as me?" he asked, just for something to say.

"I 'ave no idea," Aiden answered honestly. It was true Kimble slept more than any other Siskan the Dreamer had known. Some small part of him guessed that it was an escape for the pilot, a way of avoiding this painful outside world. Of course Aiden would never say this. He slipped a hand through Kimble's long silky hair and whispered instead, "I wasz t'inkin'..."

Kimble laughed again. "Now I knows I'm in trouble."

"We could go to ze Szolarium szometime when it'sz dark at night 'czept for ze fullest moon, eh? We could go an' I could give you disz," Aiden offered, daring to show Kimble one of the platinum braided rings. "Zere isz one for you... an' one for me. Ze szame asz disz. We would go wit juszt you an' me.. an' Ashair... an' Remy an' isz Missztressz."

Kimble's eyes opened wide in surprise. He'd seen enough marriages during his time in the Xavier Institute to know what was being asked of him, was even aware that such rings were involved. "You – you still wants me?"

Aiden snorted. "M' inszulted you even need to aszk."

Kimble came forward in a rush, eager to placate Aiden's insult although the Dreamer wasn't really mad. "Sorry, it's just that you knows how unlucky I am. Bad things jus' keeps happn'in ta me."

Aiden sighed softly, running into the same brick wall that Remy had so many times before. "Maybe it'sz time to chanje all zat. You szay to me, 'Keepsz me forever.' Disz Aiden'sz way of szayin' back, 'It would be my greateszt honor to be wit you, to live for you and to die for you asz well, if zat isz what isz required of me. Better it isz to 'ave you now zan to never 'ave known szuch a love asz disz.'."

Kimble shivered and started to cry. He was much too shaken and fragile not to. All he had ever wanted was to be with somebody and be loved. He knew Aiden loved him deeply, that Aiden had even done so since they had met for the second time outside on the tarmac of this Complex. Such things Aiden had been unable to hide, and there was no way he was lying about it now.

Aiden gathered Kimble close and held him tightly. "Never fear for me, for usz. All zat mattersz isz now, disz moment."

Kimble let himself be squeezed as he tried in vain to collect himself. He could hear his internal voices clamoring, just a buzz in his ears. Lin was unsure this was wise, but Zander was all over it and quite loud. The Punisher had always been in favor of anything that kept the Lover strong, and this green eyed Siskan with the bright Blue Mark was just the thing for that. "O-okay!" Kimble blurted out excitedly behind his tears. "Okay! I loves ya so much!"

Aiden laughed then, thrilled beyond measure. He knew now that he'd made the right decision, the brightness of Kimble's shine only confirmed it. "When ze nex' full moon come. We will do it zen."

Kimble pulled back, wiping his cheeks as he reached for his ring. He wanted to see it and feel it in his hand. It was so sparkly and bright, more wonderful than anything he'd ever seen.

"Zere are rulesz, yesz," Aiden said, playful now. "You cannot wear zat until ze proper time."

"Can I keeps it until then?" Kimble asked, his wonder so innocent and pretty.

Aiden laughed, but was then left with a problem. How to give this to Kimble without its being lost? He looked around him awkwardly and then grasped one of Kimble's blankets. With his unnatural strength, he ripped a long thin shred of it off, just enough to loop around Kimble's neck and slipped the ring through it. He tied it and then sat back with a satisfied smile. " 'Ow'z zat, eh?"

Kimble giggled again, all smiles and happiness. "What about you? Ain't you gots one, too?"

Aiden took out his own ring and ripped the blanket again. Henry would just have to forgive. He tied his own makeshift necklace around his neck and grunted softly as Kimble embraced him again a little roughly in his joy. He smiled again as Kimble's vibrations of love and happiness washed over him in a rush. How badly they had both needed this.

"Well, ain't you a pair?"

Aiden looked up to see Remy in the spot he'd been in only a few short minutes ago. Minutes that seemed an eternity away. The thief was slouched comfortably. "What're you two up to all special?"

Kimble beamed up his former Master, the widest of smiles. "Aiden gives me a ring!"

Gambit jerked a bit in surprise, but tried to control it. He really shouldn't have been all that taken aback, Asher had been dropping enough hints. Many times Asher had spoken to him of the wisdom of pair bonding for Siskans, and especially for Kimble who needed all the encouragement and happiness he could get. There had also been a flurry of marriages taking place at the Solarium, not the least of which had been Fallen and Seth's, one the Dreamer had tagged along to see.

What choked a little was that Remy seriously doubted that Aiden's fiery temper and lack of patience could deal long term with Kimble's endless tribulations and insecurities. It took a certain type of person to deal with one so needy and Remy had some major concerns. These two had only been reunited for less than three months, hardly a long courtship in anyone's terms.

"Well, dat's... dat's nice," Remy managed to say, doing his best to keep his anxiety at bay. Kimble didn't need to see that.

Kimble was much too happy to see anything but the promise made real around his neck. "Ain't it so purty?"

Gambit came closer and bent down to better see. At least he had to admit that Aiden had quality taste. He had seen these rings himself in the shop and had been aware than they hadn't moved too quickly because they had been so precious and expensive. They weren't really wedding rings, just magnificent pieces of art, luckily enough in the right sizes for two Siskans in love. The jeweler had been a bit ambitious in stocking these items, who here would have had the money, really? Well, perhaps there was a thing to be said for fate, they had been there when Aiden had needed them. Remy smiled in appreciation. "C'est magnifique, non?"

Kimble, in his excitement, leaned forward and gave Remy a huge hug, almost tipping the thief right over. Remy braced himself, always happy to be embraced by his friend. He found himself shivering from Kimble's joy and gave in, letting it wash over him. If this made Kimble happy, then who was he to do anything to spoil it? These two deserved their chance just like anyone else.

"You set a date?" Remy asked, pulling back. He was hoping for something open ended, something to give these guys a little more time to be sure. He wasn't going to get it.

"Ze nex' full moon," Aiden answered, daring the thief to argue.

Remy did not. He simply calculated and said, "Two weeks fo' de nex'. Dat's a bit fast, eh? You two ain't known each other dat long."

Aiden's eyes hardened, but it was Kimble who spoke. His voice was soft and pleading for understanding. He sounded like a wounded child. "I needs somebody to looks after me."

Remy nodded. "Je sais, cher. I know dis, but marriage... it a real serious t'ing. For bot' of you," he said, looking at them both with emphasis, he didn't want Aiden to think this conversation didn't include him.

"I will take care of my Keemble," Aiden promised, no hesitation in his voice. "No one lovesz 'im like me."

Gambit almost snapped defensively at that, feeling the statement was inaccurate, but let it slide. Part of it was true, Remy's intimacy with Kimble was over and could never be again. "I don't doubt yo' feelin's kids, just dis still a bit fast."

"We don't know how much time we gots left," Kimble replied, his good mood fading a little. "If not now, then whens?"

Both Aiden and Remy reacted to Kimble's pessimism simultaneously. Aiden's arms came around Kimble that much tighter and Remy touched his face. Gambit couldn't help but smile uncomfortably at their unspoken competition and backed off, stepping back and relinquishing control of Kimble, for better or for worse. "All right den. Whatever you t'ink is best, mes amis."

"Zen two weeksz it isz," Aiden said, his happiness sparkling bright at Remy's capitulation. There was no ill will. "Midnight in ze Szolrium wit Ashair. Mebbe you an' your Missztressz come witnessz? Anjel, too?"

"Of course," Remy agreed. He understood now that Asher's gentle persuasions and oh, so reasonable words of wisdom had worked their magic. There would be no priest, but Gambit could have cared less. He knew better than to think any of the clergy here would participate. Aiden had no real identity papers anyway, a formal marriage license was a waste of time. A midnight, moonlight ceremony it was. So be it.

Remy gave Kimble a kiss on his forehead. "M' happy for you, cher. On dat happy note, you ready to go home?"

"Home?" the pilot asked in confusion.

"Didn' de Dreamer 'ere tell you? You free to go back to yo' place. Asher's all settled in, Aiden, too. Time you got out of 'ere an' back in de worl' where you belong, fils. Angel miss you."

Kimble shivered a little. "I don' know. I should stays in here."

Gambit stood straight, ready to show Aiden how this was done. The Dreamer was a fast learner and if he was going to take permanent charge of Kimble, well, here was the first lesson. He took Kimble's hands and hoisted him to his feet. "Non, we're goin' now. Dere anyt'ing you wanna bring from 'ere? Some books?"

Kimble looked around him, his shyness momentarily forgotten. He grabbed a couple of books that Henry had brought in for him and Angel's teddy bear. "What about the rest?"

"We'll come back for dem. Let's go."

Aiden watched with that half smile as Remy got Kimble finally moving. He got the point well enough, Kimble needed a firm hand and was best at taking orders. Aiden knew that himself, he just wasn't ready to push Kimble on anything at this point. Kimble kept the blanket wrapped around his body like a shield and let himself be walked out of the cell and the short distance back to his place.

Kimble entered his apartment like a stranger, it seemed like ages since he'd been here, and really, it seemed even longer since he had actually lived there. It had some good memories, though. He couldn't help but smile a little in the doorway, remembering the tumble he and Aiden had shared here. A soft chuckle from Aiden beside him told him the Dreamer had been remembering that as well.

"Daddy!"

Kimble's face broke out in the biggest of smiles when he heard the voice of his daughter and then she was there, real and alive in his arms. She had been to see him in the holding cell, but it wasn't the same as this, as holding her in their home.

Remy looked down on this with his own smile. He had many motives for making sure she was here at this moment, not the least of which was to soften the blow of Asher's presence in Angel's old room. Angel was here, but she no longer lived in this space. Having her here now was a reminder that she was still accessible to the pilot any time he wanted her.

Kimble embraced his daughter with a tremendous hug and a squeeze, tears pouring from his eyes. "Oh, my baby doll!' he had cried. "I missed ya so much!"

"I missed you too, daddy," she replied, her face buried against him. "Don't hide like that again."

"I won'ts."

"You belong to me always, daddy," she said. Gambit had carefully explained to her that Kimble might be upset still after everything and that she should be quick to reassure him that all was well. Of course Angel needed little persuasion, she was always looking after her wayward father with infinite patience. "You always will and now Aiden does, too."

Kimble sobbed once at that, squeezing her that much tighter, his shine sparkling with happiness and gratitude. He held her for a long while, then slowly let her go. He stepped back only to find himself next embraced by Molly. They were all making an effort to make him feel at home. **_Welcome back_**, she signed and gave him a kiss. Kimble accepted all of it with tears of joy.

Asher was there as well, keeping a respectful distance as he watched all this with a smile. Seeing Molly's affection for Kimble leave her in a wave of color and received by a grateful Kimble only confirmed to Asher what he'd been told by Remy and seen in Kimble's codes. In spite of Kimble's protests to the contrary, he really did have a family that cared about him and was there for him. This was a good thing, Kimble would need it.

"Well, who's hungry?" the centaur finally spoke. "I made some lunch fer all us."

Kimble grinned, hoisting Angel up into his arms. "I'm starvin'!"

They all piled in around Kimble's small table and then it was just like old times, a large communal meal with laughing and stories. All talk of Jael was conspicuously avoided and there was laughter and merriment all around. For better or worse, Kimble was home again.


	4. Chapter 4

(Four)

An hour or so after his warm and lovely lunch was over, Asher fidgeted in the Professor's meeting room, not sure what to expect. He had been called here for some sort of discussion and didn't like the way the others here were so nervous. It was a large group of unfamiliar people, but of course he hadn't been here all that long.

Three days had passed since his arrival and it had been a bumpy entry. First he had settled in at Kimble's apartment, the quarters strange and awkward with his unnatural body. He had to be careful everywhere he went, making sure he didn't knock any of Kimble's little glass sculptures down with his tail or his legs. He had only just been directed to the showers in the gym when he and Aiden had heard the Complex alarms go off. That was three days ago.

Jael's attack on the Kremlin had been taken very seriously by everyone here and the Complex had been in a flurry of activity ever since. There had been weddings and meetings, classes and stocks of supplies coming in from trucks and the Lucky Dragon as the Complex prepared itself for anything. The halls were abuzz with a lot of questions. If Jael was supposedly coming here, why then did he attack the Russians? Was he there or here or both? People had been milling about, talk was everywhere.

Asher had cringed.

Always there was the talk of war and fighting. Training sessions were being performed around the clock and everywhere he went he saw uniforms and even a few weapons carried by Logan's men. It chilled him to the bone, the thought of a real confrontation. Now, he was himself being involved in a meeting, in a discussion about the mysterious half Dognan terrorist.

Asher's eyes were down, but he heard the Professor speak, his words cordial and pleasant. "Welcome Asher, to our Complex. It is a pleasure having you here. As our esteemed guest, I was wondering if you might tell us anything you know about Jael. Any information you have would be of some help."

Asher nodded, grateful for the warm greeting. He had anticipated that he would be called upon for answers and had been surprised only by the time he had been given to settle in first. They obviously wanted him to feel comfortable here and accepted. Gambit was here alongside him as some friendly support and the centaur felt at ease. He answered, "Trishnar had intelligence on Jael, wuz always tellin' me some of his secrets. I'll tells ya what he passed on ta me. It ain't much, but you kin haves it.

" 'Bout forty some odd years ago Jael was born a half breed bastard child of Predor, Trishnar's brother. Predor had a thing for his pilots and eventually one of them got pregnant. It was a common thing, usin' pilots like that, but at the same time, it wuz a mark of disgrace ta haves the offspring of them unions around.

"Tryin' to maintain face, Predor sent the pregnant pilot to the pens, sumpthin' he had done many times before when such things might happen. Now keeps in mind that Jael was actually the name of Jael's mother, he tooks her name later but I'll gits ta that in a minute. The Clan wuz always fishin' fer pilots so when they seen her there, they tooks her in.

"Not long after she was taken in, Jael gave birth to a tiny premature half breed son and she named him Katero. By now the Clan had a bunch of yer alphas so Katero wuzn't the first freak there by far, but it wuz obvious he wuz part Dognan sos the others treated him like shit fer it. Jael loved her boy and did her best ta keeps him safe and showed him how best ta survives. Katero didn't haves nobody else and he loved her like nuthin' else. They had a real close bond and ta shows it, he had her 'J' mark burned on his arm instead of his own 'K'.

"Katero mighta started out small, but he wuz real strong in spirit and soon enough got about the business of provin' himself. He made himself strong in body as well, practicin' hard ta makes himself good with the sword and the bow. He worked real hard at it, more than the other kids his age and his efforts paid off. He also had some telekinetic power that he gots from his mom, but mostly if he had any kinda mutation, it wuz his ability ta charms people by his good nature and wins them over to his cause. He rose in the ranks and wuz soon commandin' squads of his own.

"Katero liked that, the power of runnin' squads, and he had his eye on the bigger prize. He wanted ta be First General of the Clan someday. Problem wuz he wuzn't the only one who wanted that seat. There wuz yer Valentin as well."

Logan nodded, remembering Valentin all too well. Though he had only briefly met Jael, Valentin he had spent far more time with than he had wanted to. This was back on Cerise when Wolverine, Beast and Remy had been kidnapped by Dognan slavers and stranded there. They had been dumped in the pens and rescued by the Clan, just as the pilot Jael had been. Valentin had won his prize and was First General when he and the X-men had crossed paths. Valentin was also Fallen's cruel husband at the time and it hadn't been pretty. Valentin had been good at his job, however, and was a powerful warrior. With the help of the three X-men, Valentin had helped to overthrow Dognan control in the area where the Clan had lived. In return, the three X-men had been returned home, flying there on the Lucky Dragon. On the way, Fallen had taken control from Valentin and the First General had been stranded here in a strange reversal of roles. Through fate, Jael had himself the last laugh, his virus had killed off Valentin here on Earth. Logan hadn't wept at the loss. Valentin had been arrogant, harsh and cruel.

Asher was continuing with his story, telling nothing about Valentin that Logan hadn't already seen for himself. "Katero wanted ta be First General, but Valentin wuz real strong. Valentin used alla his power an' influence ta brings Katero down. What ended up in Valentin's favor wuz that Katero wuz a half breed. Nobody liked them Dognan guys, not one bit. When it come down to a choice between the two, Valentin won out.

"Enraged that he wuz passed over by the Clan, Katero tooks all the alphas who were his friends and left. Folks thought he mighta gone back to the Dognan and sought out his dad, lookin' for an inheritance, but that wuzn't true. Them alphas what were Katero's friends all come from here, right? Sos they told him stories about this world and it wuz soundin' real good, you know? I means, back with the Clan he mighta been First general, but here, heck, he could be King. Keepin' that in mind, Katero come here, jumpin' with his mother and a coupla other pilots he had."

Again Logan nodded to himself. Yeah, Jael had pilots all right. One of them was currently living in this Xavier Complex. That would be fireman Bob Kenna's pilot, Meer. Meer was a playful curious creature, a pilot not as well made as Fallen was. She was more like a dog that could garble some words than a human. Meer had escaped from Jael once and led the X-men back to his lair, the closest they had ever come to catching the terrorist. Now Meer remained with them, safe and sound.

"Katero managed ta jumps here all right, but it burned out his mother. Jael died not long after they arrived and then he tooks her name ta honor her. Since then he set up shop here and he's been plannin' on takin' over ever since I guess. Thing is, Trishnar had jurisdiction over this world. It might not seems like it ta you, but he wuz always keepin' tabs on Jael, doin' his best ta makes sure he didn't ever git so powerful ta actually takes over."

"Right. Like Trishnar really did that outta the goodness of his heart," Logan challenged. "He didn't want any kind of threat against his throne."

Remy cringed inwardly. Of all the X-men, he was the only one to have met Trishnar and he couldn't help but be impressed by the guy. Yeah, he was a Dognan King and silent ruler of here, but Trishnar had never blatantly interfered in any of the human doings here. Logan was distorting the truth.

"M' Master done a great many things you don't knows about," Asher countered, only the briefest flickers of annoyance rising in his shine. He was doing his best to maintain a neutral tone of voice even in defense of his former Master. "He done his share as best he could. It just wuzn't enough. When Jael finally come fer him, Trishnar didn't knows just how powerful Jael really wuz. Jael gots some Shalayesk armor from Sheba and it wuz enough ta makes him stronger. That and he wuz cheatin'. The Game wuz always suppozta be a one on one thing, but he come with an army. He burned out M' Master's palace with his alphas and tooks Babette's Angel. He killed David right there. Right in front of m' Master and tooks his energy. Jael wuz too strong an' Trishnar wuzn't near ready for it."

Remy closed his eyes, swallowing the lump in his throat. Now it was possible that Asher and Aiden had collaborated to match their stories of this tragic event, but somehow, on a Kundatesh level, Gambit knew Asher was speaking the truth. Remy could think of no more horrible thing, to witness the death of a child. Trishnar must have been racked with guilt over having not taken Aiden's warning seriously.

Asher glanced at the thief, sensing his grief. "Yeah, that's right. The Dreamer warned Trishnar all right, but Trishnar wuz tryin' ta keeps his promise ta us Siskans. That the Game would never touch us. See, he got inta the Game cuz he loved us Siskans, not cause he wanted ta win. He didn't ever actively try ta find any of us, it's just that when he found us, he tooks us in, vowin' ta keeps us safe. Too bad, it wuz a bigger job than he could handle. Trishnar wasn't ever no fighter, he was a peacemaker. He didn't stand a chance against a man on fire ta takes over a world.

"Aiden wuz lucky ta gits out when he did. At the same time, Trishnar sent word I wuz ta be hidden and then brought here when it got a little quiet. I at least gots ta see m' Master buried. It was telecast ta me from away, but I gots ta sees him buried on Solestra where he wuz born. Trishnar wuz a good Master, the best I ever had."

"I'm sure this has been very hard for you," the Professor said respectfully.

"Yeah, that's all fine and well, but none of this helps us with our problem now," Wolverine grumbled, crossing his arms. While he had some sympathy for Asher, he was sick to death of the Game. It came out in his attitude, he was almost rude as he went on to say, "We have to prepare to fight this bastard here. You got anything that can actually help us do that or not?"

"You cain't fights him," Asher asserted with authority, shaking his head.

"Why not? You think he's that strong?" Logan challenged a little too smugly. He hadn't liked Asher's tone.

The Siskan looked at him and then at the Professor, looking at them both like the reason should be obvious to them all. "Why would ya fights? The Lord commands us ta peaceful resistance. Ta fights Jael risks yer souls."

The silence that crashed down in the room was deafening. Everyone had frozen, eyes wide, in stunned wonder at his words. Asher glanced around him, perplexed, as he was suddenly bombarded with vibrations. There were the inevitable inaudible messages, sent to his way too receptive mind and hurting him on levels these poor folks could never understand.

**_/ Is this guy for real?_** he was receiving in a mixed up tumble, coming from so many different sources, **_/ He can't possibly believe that. No one is that naive. That poor innocent./ _**

_**/ Why does a Siskan believe in God? Everyone knows God isn't real. This is about our lives, of course we have to fight.** /_

_**/ This is some kind of joke, right? I didn't just hear that? **_

_**/ Somebody get this loser out of here. /**_

_**/ Don't tell me we're actually going to listen to this guy?**_

_**/ Where did Remy find this freak?**_

Asher looked around him, trying not to wince in the uncomfortable silence. They were trying to respect him, these alphas, so they held their tongues, but they thought he was nuts. Well, most of them anyway. There were a few who believed in God as he did, but they didn't share in his pacifistic view, not enough to come to his defense. They simply felt guilty for not speaking out. They felt sorry for him.

Asher felt his temper rise. He had always tried to maintain an even keel, but this was more than his inner strength could bear. He had been suffering for the past days now, knowing these people were planning a war that would only jeopardize their futures in the afterlife. He had to speak out, he had to save them from themselves before it was too late. "You'd risk losin' yer souls by murderin' and killin' just ta save yer lives in the here and now? This cain't be the way. Jesus says that evil kin be overcome if ya prays hard enough, if it's God's will that it be done."

Remy couldn't help but cringe at that, this time enough that Asher couldn't possibly miss it. Remy was thinking that Asher was in peril, speaking with all of the zeal and vigor of a bright new convert who has no sense of reality. Asher sensed it of course, Gambit's silent judgement and concern. All it did was inflame him further and he said a little more forcefully, "Don't y'all gits it? Yer fleshly lives are only temporary! What will y'all do then when yer all dead and denied access to Heaven on account of the killin' an' fightin'? God created all of us and alla thems, too. You don't haves the right ta destroy what the Maker made and it's the Devil what's makin' ya think ya do. You cain't gits yer souls back from the Devil once ya sold thems fer greed of this Earthly life!"

Well, that was more than Wolverine could stand. He was instantly furious and shouting, done with this nonsense. So many times he had heard similar words coming out of the mouths of fanatics at times of crisis. What a useless crock of shit. It hadn't helped then and it wasn't going to help them now, only make things worse by confusing the issues. He would put a stop to this bullshit if no one else was. "You can take yer religious crap and get outta here, buddy. Right now. What we need is something constructive to fight Jael. None of yer stupid little prayers are gonna do that. The only one that's gonna get us outta this mess is us."

Asher stood bravely, looking for the right words to say. "You don't really means that. God watches over us in all things, we just don't ever sees the whole plan from down here, is all. God loves us and He loves ya too, James. You don't means what yer sayin'. He loves us, but we gots ta obey His will. We cain't fights, not with yer weapons and killin'. It ain't right."

Logan flushed at Asher's words, fisting his hands. He wasn't listening and wasn't going to. The fact that Asher, the presumptuous little shit that he was, had dared to use his given name without permission, only aggravated this even more. He wasn't even sure how Asher even knew that name but didn't care. Wolverine took another step, invading Asher's personal space and snarled, "I don't wanna to hear any of your fucked up, pathetic religious bullshit! Where was yer lovin', all compassionate God when Jael killed all those people back in New York!"

Asher looked back at him with the saddest of smiles. He had seen deeply into the shine of this one and discovered plenty. Confident in his own enhanced perceptions, Asher believed he had seen the root cause of Logan's anger and countered with a question of his own. His voice was gentle, almost parental as he asked, "Don'cha really means, 'Where wuz my God when you wuz bein' kidnapped an' crammed all full of metal?' " Asher shook his head. "Didn't it ever occurs ta ya even once that maybe you wuz meant ta be like this? That ya now better serves yer brothers and sisters as ya are? Look at ya, yer a big strong man now. A protector of yer people. You done more good fer folks after yer changin' than ya ever done before it happened. Did ya ever thinks ya mighta confused a test from God as bein' a punishment fer sumpthin' you ain't never did?"

Poor Asher. He did not understand the audible gasp of horror that came in unison from the crowd nor comprehend the warning in the ashen faces of the folks around him. He did not know the man before him as well as the others here, he might have grasped the idea that Logan had suffered deeply, but he would never know the battle the man had had to make to retain and preserve what little of his humanity had remained afterwards. To suggest that Logan's terrible changing was something that should have happened or that it was part of some grand plan that should be accepted without question was a line no one had ever dared to cross -- until now.

It wasn't until Asher saw the flush of Logan's face and the hulk of the man fly towards him that he considered the possibility that maybe he might have crossed a line somewhere he shouldn't have. Wolverine's great rage had been far larger than Asher's empathic scan had suggested and now it was coming for him, a sign that Asher had overstepped his bounds. Jean and Max were instantly there, using their telekinetic power to hold back the brute strength of their comrade as he went ballistic.

"Who the fuck do ya think ya are!" Wolverine howled, spit flying from his mouth. He couldn't believe what this Siskan twerp had dared to utter, this child who thought he knew everything at a glace. Truth or not, this was an outrage he wasn't going to stand for. His claws had popped automatically on both hands, triggered by his intense rage. He struggled against those who held him, but he was stuck fast. "You think you can waltz in here like some goddamned Jesus wannabe and tell us how we've gotten it all wrong and then tell us all what to do! Like yer so fuckin' perfect and smarter than all of us! Fuck you! You take your stupid fuckin' Bible and yer stupid fuckin' Jesus and shove 'em both up yer stupid fuckin' ass! You hear me! You ever come around me, preachin' yer pacifistic 'turn the other cheek', 'God loves us all' bullshit, I'll kill you in so many fuckin' ways ya can't even count! You hear me? You stay the fuck away from me! Get the fuck out!"

Asher retreated instantly, rearing back to find a safe distance, struck silent by Logan's violent outburst. It was clear to all that Asher was both horrified and repelled by the blasphemy hurled at him. That look of pure shock on his face told Remy everything -- Asher had lived a sheltered life, especially with Trishnar who owned him at the time he had discovered his faith. Never had Asher been confronted by anyone who did not believe as he did. Bad enough that this was the first time, but of all people to have screaming at him, Wolverine was the worst possible choice. True to form, Wolverine's verbal assault had been shocking and hurtful, made all the more painful as it was conveyed by the vibrations of hate and disgust coming from the feral man in front of him. Logan's death threats were legitimate and sincere and Asher had no reason to doubt them, six shiny claws had seen to that.

For the first time, Remy saw Asher's mental shields break. The Siskan crumpled under the unexpected verbal attack and his shine clouded a muddy black and brown as he was overcome with anger, wounded pride, and terror. There was a moment where he let slip a vibration of silent condemnation,** _/ It's folks like you what cause these wars, _**Asher was thinking.**_ / You ain't nuthin' but the purest evil there is with yer hatin' and killin' an' lack of fergiveness. One man's rage leads to another's and another's 'till it just don't ever ends. Yer emotion's gonna be the death of us all. I'm right, I knows it, and that makes me better 'n you, and I ain't even real in the flesh. So many things a man like you could never unnerstand. A man like you wouldn't even bothers ta try. /_**

The thought was there, swirling through the colors of Asher's shine and then he squelched it, buried it under a strange kind of guilt Remy immediately recognized. The Siskan had passed judgement, breaking a Commandment with such thoughts and was horrified by it. This one was ruled by a tight self control of his emotions and while it was bad enough that Logan had charged him so viciously, he had also caused Asher's own control to slip, a double insult.

It was more than Asher could bear. He whimpered loudly as he burst into angry tears and then fled, the others in the room parting for him quickly. Asher was in a panic, nearly breaking the door in his haste to get his large, awkward body out of the room as quickly as possible.

Remy made to follow, but paused in front of his teammate. Logan had calmed once he had put that Siskan pansy in his place and he now regarded Remy with a smug smile of satisfaction. Gambit just shook his head and said softly, "I'll say a prayer for you, mon ami," and slipped out.

Logan growled at that, but couldn't hide a momentary questioning look. Of all the things he had expected Remy to say, that wasn't even close. While Remy had never denied his Catholic upbringing, he was normally quiet about his religious preferences, until now.

Wolverine turned back to the crowd, they were all looking at the floor or at each other in mortified embarrassment, and none would dare meet his eyes. None, except the Professor.

"Well that was outrageously cruel, even for you," Charles said, never one to hold back. "I don't expect you to believe as Asher does, Logan. But I do expect you to show some respect."

"And where was his respect fer me?" Logan tossed back, his shoulders tight with defensive anger and his hands fisting.

"I believe Asher's words, however misguided, were an attempt to rationalize what happened to you and offer you compassion and understanding. If Kurt, your dear and most Catholic friend, were to say the same thing, would you have reacted so harshly?"

"Kurt knows better," Wolverine replied, moving towards the door.

"And since Asher does not, you attack him? I have always preached tolerance here, Logan, you know that. Tolerance for everyone regardless of appearance, gender, and religion. I sincerely hope that when you walk out of here and cool off, you'll consider apologizing to our new friend. He offered you compassion, I suggest you do the same for him."

Logan was still for a moment, glaring at his mentor, then shifted his eyes down and left, slamming the door behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

(Five)

Gambit followed the sound of clattering hoofbeats in the hallway and the looks of stricken wonder of those who had parted ways for the emotionally charged centaur as the poor creature had fled at a full gallop. It was no surprise to Remy when he heard the slam of the nearest Solarium door as Asher burst through it and into the safety of the garden sanctuary.

Remy followed him, hampered and left behind by the throbbing ache in his leg. Aiden had helped him, sure, but the injury was still present enough to send him warning pangs not to push it. He gave up on the chase, seeing the answer to Asher's problem had presented itself just by being in this room.

This level of the Solarium was especially private and beautiful. Only the highest ranking people were allowed in here. In the center of this area was a large duck pond, filled with lily pads, fish and frogs, and waterfowl of all colors. A generous paved walking path surrounded this large body of water and Asher was now using it to burn off a little steam, using it as a race track.

Asher was still running at a full gallop, his head down and his arms crossed across his chest, holding Smee tightly to him. The poor Mumbler had nearly tumbled from Asher's shoulders in his haste to depart the meeting room, but Asher would never have let his precious charge hit the floor. There were only just a couple of people using the path and when they heard Asher's clattering hooves, they made way for him just as everyone else had.

Remy came to a halt next to a large tree by the path, knowing it was an exercise in futility to catch up to the distraught Siskan. Even at full speed, it would take Asher a couple of minutes at least to make the whole circumference of the pond as it was. Remy leaned against the tree instead and watched as Asher burned off his emotional turmoil with a round of vigorous exercise. The centaur was moving quickly, running as fast as he could. The vision he gave was startling and magnificent even in his distress, he was as magnetizing as any racehorse, his body all rippling muscle and liquid grace. He was openly crying even as he galloped with all he had, but he was getting a handle on it, his shine changing as he was moved from tears to penitent prayer. He blew by Remy without slowing, going around again.

Remy waited patiently, seeing that this was something Asher must have devised as a method of controlling his emotions, it had the look of habit. This would be no different than Logan's meditative ritual exercising and Remy was grateful to see that unlike Aiden or Kimble, Asher was able to come down without violence. Gambit relaxed and stood at ease, sending off a steady hum of calm and patience, hoping Asher would slow and come to peace.

Asher went by him one more time a few minutes later, but he was slowing down. His pelt was now dark with gel sweat, his human torso drenched, and his hair plastered to his face. He was breathing steadily though, he wasn't out of control, just tiring. Remy watched as Asher gradually came down to a fast trot and then as he came closer, slowed to approach him easily and without haste. Asher then finally stopped, standing in front of him, his head down and his sides heaving from his effort.

"You okay, fils?"

Asher didn't reply, but came forward slowly, coming to lean against him and lay his head down on Remy's shoulder, his body vibrating only a desire for Masterly comfort. Of course Remy was quick to comply, embracing the trembling Siskan as he would any other. He grasped him all the tighter when he felt Asher sob once and release a vibration of grief, this time for Trishnar, the one who had understood him best.

"C'est bien, fils, it's all gonna be fine," Remy murmured, stroking Asher's sweat slick hair. At this moment, as was inevitable with any Siskan, Asher had revealed himself for the child they all were. Sooner or later, it happened to them all, that realization that they were all just very small and sometimes the world was just too big for them.

Asher calmed in Remy's deep embrace, his vibrations changing to ones of gratitude. Remy was comforting, Remy was safe. He would hold and comfort and never demand anything more than this simple platonic closeness.

"I'm sorry," Asher said after a moment, his voice soft. "It's all m' fault. I knows better than ta shows so much emotion. I brung it all on m'self."

"Dere ain't nuthin' for you to be sorry for, cher. Jus'.. Jus' dat you gotta be ready for dose dat don't t'ink like you do. Not everybody 'ere believers, especially some of dose dat suffered de mos'. You gotta be patient and quiet, neh? You got an idea, you can talk to Charlie quiet like, he'll give you a listen even if he don' take up everyt'ing you say, d'accorde? You just gotta be ready to take no fo' an answer."

"War an' fightin' cain't be the only option," Asher insisted still, his voice cracked and sore from crying. "It jus' cain't."

"Noey noes to the fighty fights," Smee mumbled, reiterating his Master's view. He was a bit windblown and rumpled from Asher's run, but his eyes were bright with love for his owner.

"Hmm. Mebbe so, Ash, but if you want Charlie to 'ear you, you gotta offer sumptin' constructive, not just de word of God. Folks 'ere need more n' dat."

Asher shivered, swallowing more hurt. He couldn't possibly understand the thought that what was so obviously right to him wasn't so clear to everyone else. He had been sheltered for far too long, the real world had never really touched him.

Remy sensed it, but there was little he could do to help Asher's entry into a broader world. Gambit held him, offering relief as best he could. Holding Asher was like holding Seth, he realized at that moment. These two were very much alike, both fragile, yet both keeping in reserve some kind of inner strength that helped them keep it together. Seth had Fallen, Asher had his faith.

_**His faith.**_

Remy immediately recognized that if Asher had been this upset over one such verbal assault, that his faith was just that foundation, and that it was something that needed to be maintained and nurtured for Asher's stability. For the first time, Asher was in the right place for just that. Inspired now, Remy took Asher's hand. "Come on, cher. Let's get washed up. Got sumptin' I want to show you."

Asher wiped at his tear streaked face. "What?"

"Come, on. It's a surprise."

Remy brought Asher out of the Solarium and down the hallway to the gym for a quick shower, then up another level to a place where Asher had never been. Here Charles had allowed several chapels to be constructed in much the same fashion as the markets had been, doing his best to accommodate all the varied beliefs of those he sheltered. They passed a synagogue, a mosque and a Protestant chapel before Gambit brought Asher in the Catholic church, figuring the Siskan would appreciate it best, with all the ornate statuary and lit candles.

It was a good assumption. Asher was awestruck by the beauty of the sanctuary, at all the art and wood and scented air. He whimpered in happiness, crossing himself automatically when he saw the large wood and plaster crucifix above the altar, an expensive piece of art made possible through generous donations by those who came here to worship. At the foot of the large marble altar was a small stone baptismal fountain constructed with a rocky waterfall and pond, its watery bubbly sounds a soothing accent to this beautiful place. It was surrounded by flowers and greens, adding to the natural beauty of the sculpture and no less a piece of art than the crucifix had been. To simulate the atmosphere of a real church in this structure, there were even stained glass windows. They didn't look outside of course, this area was still deep underground, but they were backlit with lights to reflect through all the various colors and designs. Two large aviaries stood tall to the ceiling, one on either side of the row of pews, that housed some beautiful white doves, the sounds of their gentle cooing a compliment to the tiny fountain.

They were not alone in the chapel. Logan's dear friend Kurt was there, doing a little housekeeping, brushing a broom along the center isle. He smiled when he saw Remy coming. "Guten tag, mon fruend," he greeted with a smile, his light German accent pleasant to the ears.

Asher broke into a smile of perplexed wonder at the sight of this strange man. Kurt was one of the most pious of all the senior X-men, but his demonic appearance was a stark contrast to his beautiful and Godly heart. Kurt was a volunteer here, moving up in the ranks as high as he could go without actually being ordained. He'd had the chance, but when forced to choose between the priesthood and being an active member of the team, had made his decision to move away from a permanent position in the church. He compensated for it by spending most of his free time here assisting the Father whenever he could.

"Bonjour, Kurt," Remy greeted. "Got someone I'd like you to meet. Dis my good buddy Asher."

"Welcome," Kurt replied, automatically holding out his hand.

"Yer a pretty one, kitten," Asher said without a hint of shyness. He was unabashedly looking Kurt up and down with all the innocent wonder of a small child. Kurt was slim and blue all over, and had a long pointed tail. Not your typical human by any standards. Not that it put the centaur off at all, Asher's grin was wide and friendly, all of his earlier distress gone.

Kurt laughed, surprised by the strange greeting. Most people were usually afraid of him, not captivated like this one. But then again, there was nothing usual about Asher at all. "Danke, I think," he teased, returning the smile.

Remy continued the introductions, trying to hold back his own laughter. "Asher, dis is Kurt Wagner. Some folks around here call him Nightcrawler on account of all dat blue, but mebbe kitten'll do for you."

"I reckon so," Asher said, shaking Kurt's hand while still marveling over him. Kurt had only three fingers so Asher had plenty more to look at.

Remy just kept on going. He asked Kurt, "Is de Father around?"

"He should be. I'll go and get him."

Asher was given another shock when Kurt simply vanished with a strange _'bamf'_ing noise and a cloud of purple smoke. "Goodness gracious me!" Asher blurted out in surprise and took a step back, grasping his Mumbler with one hand while crossing himself again in fear.

"Easy, cher," Remy said with a laugh. " 'E a teleporter. Probably shoulda at least honked before 'e 'ported, eh?"

"I guess!" Asher replied, calming down when he saw Remy's casual attitude. This was one wild place.

Kurt returned in a more normal manner, coming through the back door with an elderly priest dressed in black. The old man paused in surprise when he got a good look at Asher, no doubt wondering if the heavens had opened up and sent down some sort of strange angel to visit him. "Well, hello there."

"Bonjour, Father," Remy greeted with deep respect. "Was wonderin' if you could do us a little favor if you got a minute."

"I have all day. What can I do for you?"

Remy slung an arm over Asher's shoulders. " M' good friend Asher 'ere ain't never been properly baptized. Was hopin' mebbe you could do us de honor."

Asher gasped sharply in surprise, his shine swirling with every positive emotion and color that existed and maybe a few more. Gone was his misery from just a few minutes ago, gone were all of Logan's angry and hurtful words. They had all been replaced by Asher's overwhelming excitement and gratitude. "He kin do that? Jus' fer me?"

"Yes, my son," the Father replied, amused by Asher's child like delight. "It would be my pleasure."

--------------------------

Logan sat on his barstool, quietly grumbling. He wasn't as angry as he had been earlier, but he was still simmering.

Asher, that bastard. Just like a Siskan to get all out of control and turn things all around on him. Okay, maybe he might have overreacted a little, but it aggravated him the way some people excused the bad things in the world as being the will of God or some such bullshit. It wasn't the will of God, it was just people being assholes, and everyone knew the world had more than enough of them to go around.

Logan tossed back his drink and thumped on the bar for another. Yes, he was downing these at a superhuman pace but he didn't give a shit and the bartender knew enough to keep quiet. At least his reputation as a healer kept him from being cut off, he'd been here for over an hour and had downed more than any normal human could take without passing out.

This hadn't been the first time anyone had tried to reason with him on religious grounds. Kurt knew better, but that was only because they had already argued over this more than once. Kurt had used the same argument that Asher had, that all of this was somehow meant to be, and while Logan hadn't gone off as severely, he had frightened Kurt enough that he never brought it up again. Kurt had tried to say that God needed different kinds of soldiers depending on the job that was required. Sometimes God needed gentle people, and well, sometimes he needed someone like Logan. Like they way that the wolves picked off the sick to strengthen the herd.

Wolverine hadn't taken the suggestion well. Not that the argument wasn't legitimate, but just the idea that there was some guy up there conducting things and moving people around like little pawns on a chessboard rankled him more than he could stand. How could Jael serve any greater purpose? The freak was in it for himself and he didn't care who he trampled. That could never be for anything good. Never.

Logan thumped the bar again. This time the man came, but empty handed. "Maybe you've had enough, sir."

Wolverine growled a low deep rumble. "I don't think so. I'm ain't drunk yet."

That was a lie. He was quite buzzed and the man knew it. The bartender stared him down, deserving a medal for bravery. He looked into Logan's bloodshot eyes and didn't back down. "Maybe you oughta go home. I could call your wife."

Logan growled again, this time showing his teeth. "I'll have another."

The bartender nodded and poured, but when he walked away, Logan saw him reach for the phone. Not wanting to hear it, Wolverine tossed back his drink and left, swaying just a little on his feet.

Asher that little prick, who needed his shit?

Grumbling, Logan staggered down the hallway and suddenly wanting a little peace, stumbled through a door for the Solarium. It was evening now and the park was growing dark. There were some tall street lamps about spreading some light and illuminating several of the large park benches that had been placed here and there under the trees. He chose one of the benches under a large tree and shuffled that way, staggering a little from being so intoxicated. He found the bench – it kept moving on him, the stubborn bastard --- and flopped down, landing with a thump and a hiccup, immensely satisfying. He lay his head back and closed his eyes, breathing in the sweet smells of the room, giving serious consideration to just blacking out right here.

"Mr. Logan?"

He cocked open one eye, only to see the source of his pain standing in front of him. He couldn't stop the sneer of distaste that crossed his mouth. "What ya want, Ash?"

The centaur had crept up on him, the soft, green grass blunting the clip of his hooves. Not that it was that easy to sneak up on the ol' Wolverino, but he was a bit sauced at the moment.

Asher held his head down, his voice soft and calm as he said, "I wanted ta apologize fer bein' so pushy earlier. I didn't have no right ta shoves my feelin's on anaone. You wuz right ta be upset at me."

Logan's head flopped forward, as close as he was going to get to sitting up and giving Asher his full attention. This he had not expected, the Siskan to come to him. Logan shrugged and waved his hand expansively. "Well, that's okay, kid," he said, thrilled to avoid having to apologize himself. Feeling generous, he went on to say, "I mighta been a little rough on ya, but that's just my way. Sayin' what needs ta be said directly like."

Asher nodded, but there was a sadness in his eyes. Logan had apologized for his tone, but not for the blasphemy. Smee wasn't the least bit mollified, he twitched his whiskers and began to rant, "Brighty shine with hurty words! Meany mean you are!"

Asher stepped back, trying to control his pet by shushing him with long strokes of his hands. "Hush now, nobody wants ta hears from you," he admonished, keeping his eyes down and away from the man on the bench.

Logan growled some in irritation but saw the submission in Asher's posture. "Yer boy's got quite the mouth on him."

"He don't means it," Asher replied, covering Smee's mouth so the Mumbler couldn't embarrass him any further. Asher had recovered some from Remy's generous baptism and the ceremony, though brief, had helped him get his head straight. The Father had explained that it was unusual to do an outright baptism, but with the threat of war looming on the horizon, the Father had been making exceptions. The Father had gone one further, giving Asher his First Communion as well, extracting a promise from the centaur that he would continue in his journey of faith by joining them in religious education classes and helping out with the needy of the Complex. It had been an easy vow for Asher to make, he would have done so on his own without prompting at the first person who asked.

In keeping with that line of reasoning, Asher knew he had to apologize now to Wolverine, to clear the air between them. It had to be done to keep the peace. Not that it seemed to have been a concern on Logan's mind. Asher could see Logan was trashed, that this poor human had been so unable to deal with the situation that he had even gotten himself drunk. "Well, all righty then," Asher said, giving up when he saw he wouldn't be getting anything further from Logan. It was better to let the attack roll off then to dwell on it. Better for them both. "See ya around."

"Yeah. Later, kid."

Asher nodded and walked off, his head down.

Logan watched him go, unable to miss the dissatisfaction in the boy in spite of his better senses having been blunted by drink. He knew inside that perhaps he should have apologized himself for some of what he had said, but it hadn't been possible. The Wolverine didn't apologize, not unless the screwup was on a grand scale, and well, that just didn't happen all that often. The kid had needed to be put in his place and so it had been done. He'd said what everyone else had been thinking, that was all.

He lay his head back again on the bench and closed his eyes, letting the peace and serenity of the park wash over him again. The smell of the grass and plants reminded him of happier times far away from here. It was pretty sad when one had to build artificial parks just to find a safe place to sit and crash. At that moment he wished Jael would stop his hiding and just come out and fight, just so they could get it all over with. This standing around and waiting wasn't good for anybody. Not that he was in any condition to fight at the moment, mind you, but it would still be a relief. He took a deep breath and relaxed, never feeling himself fall asleep.

He had no idea how long he was there on the bench but when he finally woke up, he knew he wasn't alone. Remy was sitting there, quietly gazing out over the pond as he shuffled cards loosely from one hand to the next. It was hard to be certain about the time in here without a real sky, but the sparkling reflection of stars in the big overhead mirrors hinted that it was quite late, well after midnight.

Logan snorted and stretched, "What you doin' here?"

Remy grinned. "Karen send me. Lee at de bar said you was trashed. She didn't want to leave de kids dis late."

Wolverine grunted, but wasn't in a huge hurry to move. Of course Karen would worry, but she also knew he could handle himself. She knew how it was with him, so she did, and that was why it was the thief here watching over him instead of herself. Better for Remy to be here looking over him and avoid a fight. This wasn't the first time he'd been gone a long time without telling her anything and it probably wouldn't be the last. Karen probably wasn't pleased. "Molly know yer out here?"

Gambit nodded. "Ash is wit 'er. He fascinated by de whole pregnancy t'ing. 'E can't wait to see de twins when dey pop. Gonna be good for a laugh," he finished with a grin. "Knowin' 'im, 'e gonna steal dem away from me, either him or Kim. Siskans got a weakness for de chil'ren."

Logan grunted again, biting down on a comment that would have gotten him in trouble. He had never really felt that Kimble would have harmed Angel sexually, he just never got that feel off the guy and he'd known his share of perverts over the years. Just the same, Kimble's weaknesses still made him nervous. "Kim was always a good dad fer Angel," he finally admitted. That kid had a good head on her shoulders and Kimble had had a lot to do with that.

Remy smiled, always happy to hear a compliment dropped Kimble's way. He rose and stretched himself, a sure sign that he had been there a while. "Well, old man. Unlike you, dis boy's got a life. What you say you go on home and let me off watch, eh?"

Wolverine nodded and got up. As drunk as he had been, he felt fine now. There was a lot to be said for having a healing factor, he wasn't hung over. "Go on home."

Remy just grinned stubbornly. "After you, patron."

Logan nodded and got moving. The thief fell into step beside him and they made their way to Logan's place saying nothing more. Being teammates this long, they didn't have to. Wolverine allowed himself to be escorted and waved Remy off at his door, slipping inside. Karen wasn't up, the place was dark and filled with the sounds of sleeping people, always warm and cozy to his ears. He paused in the doorway of his daughters' room, peeking in on them like a benevolent watchdog. He would not see them harmed, his precious babies.

A nightlight twirled in one corner, dancing light across their sleeping faces and for one precious moment, Logan shivered as a sense of something holy danced across his senses. It came to him that it was regret, regret for his harsh words to Asher that came on him suddenly now, like a ghost that wouldn't let things lie quiet. It was hard not to believe in some sort of benevolent divine presence when you looked on such beautiful and innocent creatures such as these, to see that new life that had seemingly sprung from nothing. If Asher had been standing right there, perhaps Logan could have found in him to say something, but the centaur was not and the moment would pass long before he saw the Siskan again, he knew it. Just the same, Logan grumbled something that resembled an apology to whatever divine spirit might be within listening distance and slipped away, heading for his own bedroom and his wife.

Karen was curled up asleep and hardly moved when he climbed into bed, but snuggled against him willingly enough when he wrapped himself around her. These were the things that Logan believed in, things that could be touched and felt and smelled, but that ghost still lingered even now. This precious life that he held so tightly was a gift, just like the ones that slept nearby. If he wasn't careful, these gifts could be taken away. He would be foolish to take them all for granted.

Not for the last time, he made a promise to himself to keep better watch of his mouth and concentrate on the things that really mattered. He would plan for Jael and do his best to see that they put up the best defense. He could do these things and walk a bit more carefully around Asher. The promise made, he closed his eyes and fell into a deep dreamless sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

(Six)

"Kristalay?"

"Uhnn..."

"Kristalay, wakes fer me."

Kristalay opened his eyes, seeing only a blur. He'd been lying here on Skye's cold cement floor for God knows how long, glued to the floor by his own dried blood. He was numb now, feeling nothing.

"Famayalin, come."

The sound of clicking nails came close, then Kristalay felt the strangest thing. Was that a tongue licking him? Cleaning his wounds? He was too numb to tell. Water dripped over his dried and cracked lips, but he was too weak to even lap at it.

"Yer so damn stubborn."

Soft and gentle hands touched him, a warm wet rag cleaned the crusted blood from his face. The cut had swollen and festered, making it impossible to open his eyes completely. Everything was so very dim. Water came to him again and this time he found the strength to lick at it. He was cleaned, or so it felt, he kept dozing in and out, drifting away now and again to pleasant dreams of bright white bliss. He barely felt it as he was lifted and carried to the bed. His arms were raised above his head and shackled.

_Why bother? _Kristalay thought to himself with a wry, weary chuckle. _It's not like I can fight_.

His eyes remained closed even as he felt the weight of someone beside him now. "Yer almost gone. Call me Master an' I'll heals ya."

"Gonna... kill you..." Kristalay wheezed, his mouth almost too numb to form the words.

"Call me Master then. See if ya don't change yer mind once ya feels m' power."

"All right, then... Master..." Kristalay said, the word falling from him with far less pain than he had expected.

"Call Skye yer Master. Say it likes ya means it."

"Yer my Master, Skye. Heal me so I can kill yer ass," Kristalay threatened with a bitter laugh.

Skye chuckled softly. "That'll be good enough, I guess." He slid his hands down the length of Kristalay's ruined body, pausing in his lap to massage what lay limp there.

"Uhhn!" Kristalay grunted, bucking. With the caress came the power, the Kundatesh. It coursed through his body, reviving him a bit as it stole away all of his hurts and made him shiver. Skye's lips came to his mouth in a bruising kiss, sending an electric jolt through his brain. His body sprung to life and he could feel again. He could feel the soft skin of the naked Siskan beside him and smell the resentment and fury from Famayalin who was restrained in a halter a few feet away. He could hear the rush of wind outside and knew there must be a sandstorm whirling away, attacking the walls of the empty building above.

"Feelin' better now?" Skye asked, unable to hide his arrogance. He knew just how Kristalay had been affected and that he was now completely in control.

"Yeah..."

"Who am I?"

"Yer my Master."

"Good."

Skye withdrew and shifted skins, becoming Rose again. She straddled his wasted and unresistant body, the only part of him that was hard was that which she had roused with her hands. She came over him and took him in, laughing when he bucked again with a great shiver.

This couldn't be happening, Kristalay tried to tell himself. He wasn't almost dead and being fucked like this, no way. But it was true. With the full contact like this, her power was even stronger than before. Damn if he couldn't feel the cuts closing on his body and the ache in his joints melting away. It was the same as it had been with Aiden. He could feel the magic tingling throughout his whole body, his very being. He felt powerful, strong, and thought he could hear the roaring of lions in his head, a sound that seemed to come from far away but was at the same time, utterly welcoming. He jerked and climaxed violently, gasping loudly.

Skye laughed, high now on his vibrations and finished herself, sending another jolt of Kundatesh through her slave and forcing his body to climax again. He groaned and passed out momentarily, drunk on the rush and being more than half dead, was too weak to handle it.

"Mmrr!" Famayalin protested from his bonds, tears pouring from his eyes. "Mmmrrr! Master!" he mewled pitifully, his heart swollen with jealousy. He was being cast aside, tossed away and forgotten as Jael had done, he was sure of it.

Skye shivered, drinking up Kristalay's ecstacy like a fine wine, but looked over her shoulder at him, at poor Famayalin. She was well fed now and feeling warm and pleased. "Hush now, you. Ya knows this had ta be done. He wuz dyin'."

"Mmrr!" the boy sobbed, turning his head away as he collapsed in a heap, his head buried under his paws. He was the picture of complete abject misery.

Skye sighed, exasperated at the young one yet thrilled his surrender to her was now so complete. She slowly got up, her body still tingling, and came to him, grabbing a green silken robe along the way. She dressed and shifted, much preferring to be male as all the most powerful Siskans did. He came and crouched beside Famayalin who grumbled and growled with pain and fury. Skye reached out to touch and Famayalin tucked his head under all the farther, his sobs loud and heartfelt.

Skye continued to pet him. "Oh, come now. You wuz here first, Famayalin. Yer always gonna be special ta me."

"Mmrr! Grr! Master hates me!"

"Shh, Shh, now. That ain't true."

Kristalay had awakened now, his mind sailing on a white cloud of bliss. He felt no more pain. He was too comfortable to move but not too out of it to hear the conversation happening only just a few feet away. It seemed odd to him, these words being spoken, but then, this sort of thing had never happened to him before.

"Mrr! What love for me? Grr! Fuck the 'Tooth. No love for me!" Famayalin continued to complain, every human word an effort to get out of his mouth.

"The lovin' brings back the healin's," Skye explained. "Ya knows this. It wuz the same fer you. Come. Come on now."

The Master held his arms out in invitation and Famayalin looked at him, uncertain. He was waved on and he tumbled against his Master now, falling into his embrace. He continued to bawl out his hurt, calming down only as he was shushed and rocked, comforted by Skye's slender white hands.

_What a soft little pussy_, Kristalay thought to himself. _What a feeb._ _Won't see me wuss out like no little faggot boy._ He took a deep contented sigh and fell instantly and deeply asleep, never realizing just how wrong he would be.

Skye continued to pet his dear little Famayalin, not unaware that his larger charge, Kristalay, had finally succumbed to sleep on the big bed. Famayalin's tantrum was losing steam and it wasn't long before the young lion lay asleep against him as well. Skye was a gifted Siskan in a great many ways, one of them telekinetically. He lifted up Famayalin as though he weighed nothing and then lay him down on the floor, warm and comfortable. Famayalin didn't stir once, not even after having been moved. That was the plan, Skye wanted some undisturbed quiet time with his new acquisition.

The Siskan lay Famayalin down and then smoothly drifted over back to the bed, wanting another good look at Kristalay. This day had been turbulent, yet still very productive. Kristalay was partly healed and well on his way through Skye's crash course in Master and Slave. All in all, he had succumbed more quickly than Famayalin had and Skye knew well the reason -- unlike young Kyle Gibney, this was a game that Sabretooth had played before himself. Granted Sabretooth was used to wearing a Master's shoes, but hey, life moves on and we have to move on with it.

Skye stood there, not in the least displeased. He could see that Kristalay's wounds had been reduced significantly, they were merely red bands of color on his skin, not much more than that. Of course there was one injury, one not caused by himself, that stubbornly remained. Kristalay had a white, star shaped scar in the center of his chest, as though he'd been melted there once and never fully recovered from it. Skye was intensely curious about that. What could damage a healer's body so badly that he didn't fully recover from it? He didn't think it had come from Jael, it was too old.

Skye couldn't possibly know that that particular mark was a gift from Zander. Kristalay was the only person to be skewered by a plasma charged Channeler's sword and live to walk away from it.

Skye looked down on his precious lion to be and smiled. He could see the full rise and fall of Kristalay's chest and knew he was sleeping deeply. He had needed this rest after the savage whipping and now he was getting it. Skye liked to do this, to watch his clients as they slept and wonder about them. Skye liked to do so many things...

Skye was the first hatched of the six Rogues Quishnalay had cooked up. Of course Skye hadn't been his name then. No, he was Mishnar then and more than a handful even right out of the birthing tubes. Tempestuous and precocious beyond belief, he got into everything and wanted to know everything all at once. Always under Quishnalay's feet, it was easy to see how poor Mishnar got picked to be the first one Quishnalay experimented on.

Quishnalay had long since known that abuse complicated these simple programs and even in some cases, made them stronger. Just for kicks, Quishnalay pulled out a plasma gun and used it on Skye when the boy got in the way just one time too many.

Mishnar shattered quite nicely, but even that didn't keep him from knowing that what his Master had done had been a deliberate act. He never recovered from it and as soon as he was properly revived, went on a full on berserker rage, attacking the man. Quishnalay was forced to lock up the boy and beat him into submission. Mishnar was quick, yes, he was, and got the idea quickly. Powerless to take out his frustrations on the one who had tormented him, the victim became the bully and went for the others around him.

Mishnar had known then his siblings were close by, the other five. Simone was no fun, the boy had curled up in a corner and refused to come out, shy and small from the beginning. All Simone did was cry and that got real old, really fast. Kiernan was safely locked away from his treacherous hands and Kimble he only saw once. Asher was sent to see Mishnar in an attempt to get him back under control, but all the Grey wanted to do was talk nice and calm him down. Mishnar wanted none of that. He spat and fought and Asher left him alone. That left Star. She he chased around merrily, shrieking at her until she ran crying to the Master. Mishnar was then soundly beaten and locked away. Mishnar did learn how to sneak out though, and he crossed paths with Talalanay, Quishnalay's personal favorite.

Yeah, Mishnar knew about young Talalanay all right. Knew and saw how Talalanay had captured his Master's heart. Talalanay was never melted, never beaten, and was given free access to Quishnalay's bed. It made Mishnar sick with jealousy to see it and he wasted no time in seeking the boy out, watching Talalanay's heart break at the thought of Kimble being abused and broken. It was great. Such great fun.

Of course Quishnalay found out that Mishnar was sneaking out and he was finally done with young Mishnar. Quishnalay sent him packing, shipping him off to his dear friend Paladon, the Games Master, saying "Fix him or melt him down. Just take him away from here."

Paladon was happy to take him. Paladon saw Mishnar as nothing more than a distraction, a toy, a plaything. He repaired the boy, melding him together as best he could, renaming the collective creature Skye. Integrated or not, Skye remained violent and cruel down to his very core. Reintegration wasn't kind and then to top things off, the repair sent Skye off into **Shemusk. **He'd been young when he'd fractured, the reconstruction had brought him of age. It took Paladon some time to figure out what was going on and by the time Skye had been placed with a Kintay powerful enough to blast him straight with his power, Skye was hopelessly insane, the hormonal overload the last straw.

Paladon, ever oblivious to the monster living under his roof, put Skye to work, serving Paladon's most favored clients as part of his personal harem.

Skye was crafty and sneaky. He knew that full blown violence only got him in trouble, so he learned ways around this. He became sneaky cruel, toying with his clients. He had been given many skins, even now he had at least twenty to choose from, though this pretty male redheaded skin was his favorite. His only regret was that it didn't show his Mark. That one skin he kept private, hiding it away.

Once out of **Shemusk**, Skye soon learned that his enhanced senses actually added a new level to his sexual experiences. He was feeding off of the glows from his clients at the moment of their sexual ecstacy, and the more he fed, the more powerful he became. It didn't take long for him to see that he could addict and manipulate the weaker clients and bend them to his will. They would give him money and gifts, falling over themselves to serve him as though he were the Master and not the servant.

Well, Paladon wasn't the least bit pleased when he discovered what was going on. He punished Skye severely, beating him nearly senseless. Skye revolted and flew into a violent rage so Paladon melted him again, reintegrating him with the promise of doing this all over again if Skye didn't get his act together.

Skye was enraged over the whole deal, broken even further deeply inside. He killed his next client in a fit of rage, then hid the evidence. Surprised that his busy Master hadn't even been aware of the crime, he began killing over and over again when he knew he could pull it off. It was the ultimate act of dominance, taking lives. It brought out the internal Master in him, the one who wanted to be ultimately in charge. He began to take trophies from his kills, discovering his clients were just as tasty to eat as they had been to fuck.

Being melted so many times over the years had also added a new dimension to his power. He could now fly and make weak shields. He could lift and manipulate heavy objects with ease, making it all the more easy to cover up his crimes.

Paladon found out eventually and when he went for Skye, Skye killed him, stabbing him viciously at a moment of opportunity, making it look as part of the Clan uprising. Darken had no idea of the true nature of his father's death and kept Skye around, merrily dumping him on Remy when the opportunity had presented itself. Through much circumstance, Skye now found himself in a position of power. With his new acquisitions, he was going to trump Jael once and for all, putting an end to this terrible Game. Perhaps then he could find peace, find some small measure of sanity.

-------------------

Kristalay woke a few hours later, stiff now but no longer in any real pain. He was still shackled to the bed and had to pee like crazy. He groaned and shifted, trying to look around him for his Master. Skye was there, hearing his movement and coming closer. "Kristalay. He wakes."

"Gotta piss."

Skye nodded and withdrew, returning with a leash in his hand.

Kristalay eyed him suspiciously. "I'll piss right here if ya put that shit on me."

"Yer gonna soil my bed? Don'cha even thinks about it! The whip ain't far!" Skye promised with complete sincerity. The tenderness from before was replaced with the harsh arrogance of a man who was far more accustomed to being in charge than threatened. "I kin whips ya and heals ya and whips ya some more. Don't you be tryin' m' patience!"

Kristalay couldn't help but shiver at the threats. Any leniency he thought he might have been entitled to since he had served Skye so well vanished as he was put back in his place with real authority. He had no doubt that Skye could do as he promised, torture and heal him over and over again until all traces of his sanity was gone.

Kristalay grumbled but made no more threats as he was leashed just like a dog. His arms were unshackled and he sat up with a groan, his body stiff and now a little sore. It was still a hundred times better than before. He allowed Skye to lead him into a large and beautiful bathroom filled with nice tile and bright white porcelain. Skye had expensive taste and he was fortunate to have inherited a rich business man's luxurious bathroom. There Kristalay was allowed to urinate for which he was very grateful.

"Wash up. We all keeps real clean 'round here," Skye ordered, gesturing to a large, island style bathtub.

Kristalay nodded and shuffled over. He felt drained, like he'd just come off of a deep fever. He filled the tub and then sank into it, growling with happiness. He flinched a little in nervous discomfort when he felt Skye slip in behind him but quieted when he felt Skye's hands start to wash him. It reminded him of the happy times he'd spent with Kimble when the Siskan would pamper him and shower him with loving attention like this.

"Ya feelin' better now?" Skye asked, his earlier irritation gone.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, Master," Kristalay said sarcastically, playing the game.

"You best be showin' me some respect. I healed ya, didn't I?"

"Yes, Master," Kristalay repeated, lowering his tone. He was showing respect but hadn't forgot his earlier promise – he would submit for now, but payback was only just around the corner. He would obey to get what he wanted, nothing more.

Skye quieted and Kristalay relaxed. He looked down at his body and saw it was covered in bright red scars. He had healed, but not completely. He wasn't fully restored. Skye scrubbed him down, humming softly to himself some silly song Kristalay didn't recognize. He was washed and rinsed and then taken to a long table where he was massaged and pampered even more, rubbed down with scented oils. Kristalay was in heaven. Hell, if being Skye's slave was like this, he'd take it.

"Time again fer more healin'," Skye chuckled softly, whispering in his ear real close.

"Sure," Kristalay grumbled, lost in the bliss.

Skye led him back to the bed. This time Famayalin was nowhere in sight. He'd been freed and was off hiding somewhere where he wouldn't have to watch, Kristalay guessed. He lay down without protest, even when he was once more shackled to the bed. "This time, all yer scars'll be gone," Skye promised, looking him over with eyes filled with hunger and lust.

"Whatever ya say, Master," Kristalay mumbled, waiting happily for Skye to shift skins.

It didn't happen.

Skye tossed off his robe and walked around the bed, peering at him from all angles, to better view his prize. "Yer so goddamned beautiful, ya really are. M' Golden Hair, m' Kristalay."

Kristalay began to fidget, growing nervous. "Come on, make yer Rose and come fuck me."

"Oh, I'm gonna fuck ya, all right."

Kristalay's eyes widened as it sunk in what was happening. "Hey! Wait a minute!"

Skye came up onto the bed, playfully pinning him down as if this was all some kind of game. It was clear he possessed some telekinetic ability as well, Kristalay couldn't move. "Once invited, I come."

"No! Wait! Not like this!"

"I needs yer obedience fer all things. Without questions or misgivin's. That's the way it's gonna be from now on 'tween you an me."

"But—!"

He was cut off as Skye covered his mouth. "Shh...Yer gonna enjoy this. I'm gonna makes ya fly."

Kristalay snarled and thrashed, but couldn't make words as the hand that pinned his mouth closed was unbelievably strong. Skye just laughed and licked Kristalay's chest with a long wet sweep of his tongue. Kristalay bucked and squirmed trying to unhorse his captor. He yanked on the shackles, but they held him fast as the harness and leash had done. He kicked with his legs and Skye figured he'd had enough of that. The Siskan withdrew and snatched at his ankles, shackling those as well, spreading them far apart. Kristalay was hopelessly exposed and helpless.

"Ya sick fuck! I hope ya rot in Hell!" Kristalay bellowed, unable to stop tears of frustration and rage from spilling down his cheeks.

"Oh, please. Tell Skye just how many women and children you've raped?" the Siskan challenged arrogantly in return, his eyes haughty and cruel. "You gots no rights ta play the innocent victim with me! Yer body's told me evrathin'. I seen it in yer eyes, the rapin' the killin' you done!"

"Don't matter! Yer gonna pay fer this!"

"Maybe the one's finally payin' 'round here is you," Skye joked without humor. He came up on Kristalay again and looked down at the straining man with pure admiration. "So beautiful, ya are. Go on then, fight me. I won't stops ya."

Kristalay thrashed and yanked, causing all of his muscles to strain and cord out in knots. His skin shimmered with sweat and Skye licked his lips. "Magnificent."

"Fuck!" Kristalay snarled, horrified to find himself in the position he'd sworn he'd never find himself again. He could do nothing as Skye's hands came on him again and his traitorous body responded in spite of his rage. There was no Kundatesh this time, but his body had anticipated it. Fact was, his addiction had started long ago with Kimble and was now being fed again. He bucked wildly again as Skye exchanged his hands for his mouth and he was blasted with heat and pleasure. "Stop!"

Kristalay's order was ignored. He wanted to fight this more vigorously but was faced with two facts, he wasn't going to break free and had no desire to cause his new Master to bite him. With no healing factor he could safely rely on, that was one injury he didn't want to suffer. When he began to give up, the pleasure caught up with him and he fell into the game. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend it was someone else pleasuring him, Kimble perhaps.

That fantasy didn't last. Skye wasn't about to finish him like this, no he was after a different prize. He slid a hand down the crack of Kristalay's ass.

Kristalay thrashed, this time in full anger and rage. It was stopped with a pop of Kundatesh, leaving him trembling but aware. He wasn't getting out of this.

Skye snickered and sat back on his heels, using gel from his own body to slick himself.

Kristalay took one look at Skye's engorged weapon of choice and howled in refusal, straining his throat and causing his voice to break. He was lost in memory land, seeing his father bending over him. No, Thomas had never raped his son, but he did demand submission, beating poor Dog without mercy until he had it. Skye wasn't using pain, he was using pleasure instead, a more delicate but much more powerful tool. Submission was still being demanded.

Skye bent over him and then it was done, he was taken. Here was this man inside of him, unimpeded as if he'd had every right to be there. As if his protests had meant nothing. There was a burst of bright white pain, like he was being split open and then the Kundatesh came on him strong, just as it had when Skye had mounted him as a woman. He lay his head back and sobbed freely now, his spirit broken.

"Just relax now, Kristalay," Skye soothed, petting him gently. "Let Skye loves ya."

Kristalay said nothing but turned his head away. Weapon X had taken his mind, battered his psyche and he had lived. He would live through this as well and then he would fight, yes. He would tear Skye to shreds. It would happen. He would get through this and it would happen.

Skye sensed his words would not be heard. He moved his body gently now, doing his best to pleasure the man below him. He needed to feel Kristalay cum, he wanted to feed off of his pleasure. It was his plasma, his food, the only thing that gave him any pleasure in the nightmare that was his life. It would make the healing happen and make Kristalay ever more his servant. His slave however, was resisting.

Skye reached out with his hands, smoothing them over Kristalay's hardened belly and sending ripples of Kundatesh through him. There was no mistaking Kristalay's body's desire for this, he was large and hard, responsive when Skye's hands went there next, but his mind was closed. It had been this way with Famayalin, too, at first. So very stubborn, so very strong after the changing, after his work had been completed. So it would be with this one as well.

Skye used his power to its fullest, sprinkling Morrowhiem from his hands now, using it break down the last of Kristalay's barriers. Like his Lushna-esk kin, Skye was no slouch with his powers and not afraid to use every tool in his arsenal. He saw what he needed and gentled his touch, his rhythm, making it love. He spoke not with his mouth, but with his power. **_/ I loves ya, my Kristalay. This is how the healing is done. Gives yerself ta me, I will loves ya like no other. They left ya, rejected ya, but I never will. /_**

Kristalay whimpered, not wanting to give in but he was being assaulted from all sides. As good as the Kundatesh alone was, the Morrowhiem was even more powerful and addictive. Skye was an expert at what he did, he was bringing Kristalay's body to a climax, making him feel more pleasure than Kimble had ever done. Worse than that was that voice, the one that appealed to his hurt side, to tiny little Victor who had only ever wanted love and acceptance but had never found it. Even Kimble had made a choice, a choice that left him behind.

Kristalay let out a tortured gasp and climaxed, his body giving out under the strain. Impossible that he should cum from this, from being raped and victimized like this, but it had happened. As before, Skye finished not even a minute after, satisfied now with his partial victory. Kristalay grunted as he was slammed with Skye's rush and convulsed, cumming again before falling away into the black.

Skye was tripping. Kristalay was stronger now and he could almost see the healing happen, it appeared to him that Kristalay's skin was shimmering, the scars were like tiny gossamer birds that rose and flew away, never to return. His shine was so bright now, so easy to get lost in it. What a glorious find this one had been. Of course he had dreamed it, he knew most of what the future held for him, just as he knew Kristalay would break. He would become Kristalay and be his champion. Together, Kristalay and Famayalin would lay waste to that traitor Jael and the war would end, this world would not be destroyed. All the pieces were in place, it wouldn't be long now. Jael would fall.

To be continued in The Calm Before the Storm


End file.
